IHOY.  QE  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 
CONCERNING    BELINDA 


BOOKS   BY 

ELEANOR  HOYT  BRAINERD 

"CONCERNING  BELINDA" 

"NANCY'S  COUNTRY  CHRISTMAS 
AND  OTHER  STORIES" 

"THE  MISDEMEANORS  OF  NANCY" 


"  A  gay,  dimpling  girl  and  a  stalwart,  handsome  man  were  whirling 
down  Fifth  Avenue" 


CONCERNING 
BELINDA 


ILLUSTRATE!)    HV 

HARRISON    FISHER 

AND 

KATHARINE    N.    RICHARDSON 


NEW   YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 
1905 


Copyright,  1904,  1905,  by 
The  Curtis  Publishing  Company 

Copyright,  1905,  by 

Doubleday,  Page  &  Company 

Published,  September,  1905 


All  rights  reserved, 

including  that  of  tranilation  into  foreign  language!, 
including  the  Scandinavian. 


AN 
APOLOGY 

To  all  principals  of  New  York  boarding- 
schools,  the  author  of  these  sketches  offers 
humble  apologies  for  having  approached 
those  excellent  institutions  chiefly  from 
their  humorous  side. 

That  the  city  boarding-school  has  its 
earnest  and  serious  phases,  its  charming  and 
sensible  pupils,  no  rational  mortal  could 
deny;  but  each  finishing  school  has,  also,  its 
Amelias,  and  their  youthful  absurdities  offer 
tempting  material  to  the  writer  of  tales. 


CONTENTS 


I.  Belinda  and  the  Twelve 

II.  The  Musical  Romance  of  Amelia 

III.  The  Elopement  of  Evangeline  Marie 

IV.  A  Wolf  in  the  Fold      . 

V.  The  Black  Sheep's  Christmas 

VI.  The  Blighted  Being     . 

VII.  The  Passing  of  an  Affinity  . 

VIII.  The  Queer  Little  Thing 

IX.  A  Continuous  Performance 

X.  Adelina  and  the  Drama 


27 
43 

59 
81 

99 
117 

135 

i57 
177 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  A  gay,  dimpling    girl  and  a  stalwart,  handsome    man 

were  whirling  down  Fifth  Avenue "       .         .      Frontispiece 

FACING    PACiE 

"  Amelia  touched  her  guitar  with  a  white,  pudgy  hand  "  .         32 

"  For  a  few  mornings  past  Belinda  had  noticed  something 

unusual  about  the  morning  expedition "  .         .         36 

"  '  It's  scandalous,  madam  " 38 

" .  .  .  curled  his  mustache  airily,  and  allowed  his 
glance  to  rove  boldly  over  the  display  of  youthful 
femininity " 46 

"  '  I  heard  him  say,  "Grand  Central,  and  hurry"  '  .         50 

"  'Your  game's  up,  and  you  don't  marry  an  heiress  this 

trip1"   .  ...         54 

"The  girls  on  the  bed  drew  their  knees  up  to  their  chins"  102 
"They  offered  her  caramels  with  fervent  sympathy  "  .  106 
"  '  A  dark  man  is  coming  into  your  life  '"  .  .  .  120 

" .     .     .     wasted    her    substance    in    riotous    buying    of 

photographs" 124 

"Cynthia  quite  forgot  to  go  back  to  the  French  class  "      .       126 


BELINDA    AND    THE    TWELVE 


Concerning  Belinda 

CHAPTER   I 

BELINDA   AND   THE   TWELVE 

FOR  years  New  York  had  been  beckoning  to  Belinda. 
All  during  her  time  at  the  western  co-educational 
college,  where  she  collected  an  assortment  of  some- 
what blurred  impressions  concerning  Greek  roots,  Latin 
depravity,  and  modern  literature,  and  assisted  liberally 
in  the  education  of  her  masculine  fellow-students,  New 
York,  with  its  opportunities  for  work  and  experience, 
had  lured  her  on.    Fortune  she  would  not  need.    Daddy 
had  attended  to  that  in  his  will,  but  success,  and  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  world  outside  of  Indiana,  she  must  have. 

This  fixed  purpose  rendered  her  immune  from  the  senti- 
mental and  matrimonial  epidemics  that  devastate  the 
Junior  and  Senior  ranks  in  co-educational  institutions. 
She  graduated  with  honours — and  with  scalps.  Many 
Seniors  went  away  sorrowful  because  of  her,  the  French 
professor  lapsed  into  hopeless  Gallic  gloom,  and  even  the 


4  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

professor  of  ancient  history  was  forced  into  painful  recog- 
nition of  the  importance  of  the  moderns. 

When  the  fortune  which  had  seemed  a  premise  in  life's 
logic  shrunk  to  proportions  barely  adequate  to  support 
the  mother  and  the  younger  children,  and  became  for 
Belinda  herself  a  vague  hypothesis,  New  York  still  hung 
mystic  and  alluring  upon  the  horizon ;  but  a  public-school 
position  in  the  home  town  offered  solid  ground  upon 
which  to  stand,  while  yearning  toward  the  apparently  un- 
attainable star.  The  public-school  career  was  a  success. 
The  English  classes  attained  unheard-of  popularity; 
and,  if  the  number  of  fights  between  the  big  boys  swelled 
amazingly,  at  least  the  frays  did  not,  as  a  rule,  occur  upon 
the  school  grounds,  and  the  casualties  were  no  more  dire 
than  those  contingent  upon  football  glory.  Belinda  shone 
for  all.  She  allowed  great  and  small  to  adore  her.  To 
her  pupils  she  was  just  but  merciful,  and  stoically  impar- 
tial. The  school  superintendent,  who  had  weathered  the 
first  throes  of  widowerhood,  and  reached  the  stage  where 
he  loved  sitting  upon  a  veranda  in  the  twilight  and 
hearing  nocturnes  played  by  some  feminine  personality 
in  the  parlour,  suffered  much  emotional  stress  and  strain 
in  the  endeavour  to  decide  whether  he  would  rather  have 
nocturnes  and  a  parlour-chained  Belinda  or  a  Belinda  be- 
side him  in  the  twilight  and  no  nocturnes. 

Chopin  eventually  went  to  the  wall;  but,  just  as  the 


BELINDA    AND    THE    TWELVE  5 

superintendent  was  developing  a  taste  for  major  har- 
monies once  more,  the  unexpected  happened. 

Miss  Lucilla  Ryder  came  to  town. 

Miss  Ryder  was  one  of  the  Misses  Ryder.  Apart  from 
the  other  Miss  Ryder  was  incomplete,  but  she  more 
nearly  approximated  completion  than  did  Miss  Emmeline 
Ryder  under  the  same  conditions. 

Together,  the  elderly  maiden  sisters  made  up  a  com- 
posite entity  of  considerable  force;  and  for  something 
like  thirty  years  this  entity  had  been  the  mainspring  of  a 
flourishing  Select  School  for  Young  Ladies,  located  upon 
a  fashionable  side  street  in  the  most  aristocratic  district 
of  New  York.  To  the  school  of  the  Misses  Ryder  youth- 
ful daughters  of  New  York's  first  families  might  be  en- 
trusted, with  no  fear  that  their  expensive  and  heaven- 
allotted  bloom  would  be  rubbed  off  by  contact  with  the 
offspring  of  second-rate  families.  As  Miss  Lucilla  Ryder 
explained,  in  an  effort  to  soothe  the  natural  fears  of  a 
society  leader  whose  great-grandfather  had  been  a  most 
reputable  farmer,  the  young  ladies  of  the  school  were 
divided  into  groups,  and  the  flowers  of  New  York's  aris- 
tocracy would  find  in  their  especial  classes  only  those 
young  ladies  with  whom  they  might  reasonably  expect  to 
be  intimate  after  their  school  life  ended  and  their  social 
career  began. 

Miss  Ryder  did  not  mention  this  interesting  fact  to  the 


6  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

fond  parents  from  Idaho  and  Texas  who  contemplated 
placing  their  daughters  in  the  school,  in  order  that  they 
might  acquire  a  New  York  lacquer,  and  make  acquain- 
tances among  the  social  elect.  In  fact,  Miss  Ryder  al- 
ways dangled  before  the  eyes  of  these  ambitious  parents 
a  group  of  names  suggesting  a  list  of  guests  for  the  most 
exclusive  of  Newport  functions,  and  dwelt  eloquently 
upon  the  privilege  of  breathing  the  air  which  furnished 
oxygen  to  members  of  these  exalted  families.  Nine  times 
out  of  ten,  mere  repetition  of  the  sacred  names  hypnotised 
the  prospective  patrons,  and  they  gladly  offered  up  their 
daughters  upon  the  altar  of  social  advancement. 

An  explanation  of  the  class-system  would  have  marred 
the  optimistic  hopes  of  these  fond  parents,  and  the 
Misses  Ryder  were  too  altruistic  to  disturb  the  happiness 
of  fellow  mortals.  Moreover,  it  was  a  comparatively  sim- 
ple thing  to  separate  day-scholars  from  boarders  without 
appearing  to  make  a  point  of  it. 

In  the  handling  of  such  delicate  matters,  the  Misses 
Ryder  displayed  a  tact  and  a  finesse  which  would  have 
made  them  ornaments  to  any  diplomatic  corps ;  and,  for- 
tunately, the  number  of  the  young  ladies  who  were,  of 
necessity,  to  be  kept  in  cotton  wool  was  small.  The  great 
bulk  of  the  school's  attendance  was  more  or  less  genially 
democratic. 

School  keeping  in  an  aristocratic  section  of  New  York 


BELINDA   AND   THE   TWELVE  ^ 

is  an  expensive  matter.  It  must  be  done  upon  a  large  and 
daring  scale.  The  Misses  Ryder  occupied  two  brown- 
stone  houses.  The  rents  were  enormous.  The  houses 
were  handsomely  furnished.  Teachers  of  ability  were  a 
necessity,  and  such  teachers  were  expensive.  A  capable 
housekeeper  and  efficient  servants  were  required  to  make 
domestic  affairs  run  smoothly.  In  consideration  of  all 
this,  it  was  imperative  that  the  Misses  Ryder  should 
gather  in,  each  year,  enough  boarders  to  exhaust  the 
room  capacity  of  the  two  big  houses,  and  that  these 
boarders  should  be  able  and  willing  to  pay  high  prices. 
In  order  to  insure  this  condition  of  things,  one  of  the  two 
principals  always  made  summer  pilgrimages  to  remote 
places,  where  wealthy  families  possessed  of  daughters 
hungering  for  New  York  advantages  might  reasonably  be 
supposed  to  exist ;  and  it  was  in  the  course  of  one  of  these 
promoting  tours  that  Miss  Lucilla  Ryder  came  to  Lanley- 
ville — drawn  there  by  knowledge  of  certain  large  milling 
interests  in  the  place. 

It  was — with  apologies  to  Tennyson — "  the  miller's 
daughter  "  who  was  "  dear,  so  dear,"  to  Miss  Lucilla,  but 
an  unkind  fate  had  decreed  that  the  miller's  daughter 
should  show  a  pernicious  desire  for  college  education,  and 
that  the  miller  himself  should  be  as  wax;  in  his  daughter's 
hands.  Miss  Lucilla  did  not  find  pupils  in  Lanleyville, 
but  she  found  Belinda.  That  alone  should  have  repaid  her 
for  the  trip. 


8  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

The  meeting  was  accidental,  being  brought  about 
through  the  aforesaid  miller's  daughter,  who  had  been, 
for  a  High-School  period,  one  of  Belinda's  adoring  slaves. 

The  Misses  Ryder  needed  a  teacher  of  English ;  Belinda 
dreamed  of  New  York.  To  make  a  long  story  short, 
Belinda  was  engaged  to  teach  to  the  Ryder  pupils  such 
sections  and  fragments  of  the  English  branches  as  might 
be  introduced  into  their  heads  without  resort  to  surgery. 
The  salary  offered  was  meagre,  but  the  work  would  be  in 
New  York ;  so  the  contract  was  made,  and  Belinda  was  in- 
clined to  look  upon  Miss  Lucilla  as  angel  of  light.  Miss 
Lucilla's  opinion  of  the  arrangement  was  summed  up 
briefly  in  her  next  letter  to  Miss  Emmeline. 

"  I  have  secured  a  teacher  of  English,"  she  wrote. 
"  The  young  person  is  much  too  pretty  and  girlish,  but 
she  is  willing  to  accept  a  very  small  salary  and  is  unmis- 
takably a  gentlewoman.  Her  attractions  will  give  her  an 
influence  which  we  may  be  able  to  utilize  for  the  benefit 
of  the  school." 

Two  months  later  Belinda  sat  upon  her  trunk  in  a 
New  York  hall  bedroom  and  considered. 

The  room  was  the  smallest  in  the  Misses  Ryder's  Select 
School  for  Young  Ladies,  and  before  the  introduction  of 
the  trunk  it  had  been  necessary  to  evict  the  one  chair 
which  had  been  a  part  of  the  room's  furnishing.  The  bed 
was  turned  up  against  the  wall,  where  it  masqueraded, 


BELINDA    AND    THE    TWELVE  g 

behind  denim  curtains,  as  a  bookcase.  When  the  bed 
came  down  there  was  no  standing  room  outside  of  it,  and, 
as  Belinda  discovered  later,  getting  into  that  bed  without 
casualties  was  a  feat  calling  for  fine  strategy.  A  chif- 
fonier retired  as  coyly  as  possible  into  the  embrace  of  a 
recessed  doorway ;  a  washstand  of  Lilliputian  dimensions 
occupied  an  infinitesimal  fraction  of  a  corner. 

The  newly  arrived  instructor  of  youth  studied  her  do- 
main ruefully  from  her  vantage  point  on  the  trunk;  and 
it  might  have  been  observed,  had  there  been  any  one  on 
hand  to  observe  it,  that  the  study  was  interrupted  by 
occasional  attacks  of  violent  winking,  also  that  much 
winking  seemed  to  impart  a  certain  odd  moisture  to  the 
singularly  long  lashes  which  shielded  a  pair  of  rather 
remarkable  gray  eyes. 

As  she  winked,  the  young  woman  of  the  gray  eyes 
kicked  her  heels  against  the  side  of  the  trunk  in  a  fashion 
that  was  distinctly  undignified,  but  appeared  to  be  com- 
forting. There  was  a  note  of  defiance  in  the  heel  tattoo, 
an  echo  of  defiance  in  the  heroic  attempt  at  stubbornness 
to  be  noted  in  a  deliciously  rounded  chin,  and  a  mouth 
which  a  beneficent  Providence  never  mapped  out  upon 
stubborn  lines,  but  the  eyelashes  gleamed  moistly. 

If,  as  has  been  claimed  by  worthy  persons  who  have 
made  physiognomy  their  study,  the  eyes  reflect  one's  na- 
tive spirit,  and  the  mouth  proclaims  one's  acquired  char- 


io  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

acter,  Belinda's  spiritual  and  emotional  heritage  was  in 
tears,  but  her  mental  habit  challenged  fate  to  hurl  hall 
bedrooms  ad  libitum  at  her  curly  head.  She  had  wanted 
to  come  to  New  York.  Well,  she  was  in  New  York.  The 
immortal  Touchstone  loomed  up  before  her  with  his  dis- 
gruntled protest :  "  Now  am  I  in  Arden.  When  I  was  at 
home  I  was  in  a  better  place."  Belinda  quoted  the  com- 
ment softly.  Then  suddenly  she  stopped  winking  and 
smiled.  The  chin  and  mouth  incontinently  abandoned 
their  stubborn  role,  and  showed  what  they  could  do  in 
the  line  of  curves  and  witchery.  Dimples  dashed  boldly 
into  the  open. 

Belinda  looked  up  at  the  large  steel  engraving  of  the 
Pyramids,  which  filled  most  of  the  room's  available  wall 
space,  and  the  smile  expanded  into  a  laugh.  When 
Belinda  laughs,  even  a  city  hall  bedroom  is  a  cheerful 
place. 

"  J'y  sitis;  j'y  reste,"  the  young  woman  announced 
cheerfully  to  the  largest  Pyramid.  It  looked  stolidly  be- 
nignant. The  sentiment  was  one  it  could  readily  under- 
stand. 

There  came  a  tap  upon  the  closed  door. 

"  Come  in,"  called  Belinda.  The  door  opened,  and  a 
tall  young  woman  dispassionately  surveyed  the  scene. 

"  It's  a  mathematical  impossibility,"  she  said  gravely, 
"  and  that's  expert  testimony,  for  I'm  Miss  Barnes,  the 


BELINDA   AND    THE    TWELVE  n 

teacher  of  Mathematics.  Don't  apologize.  I  had  this 
room  myself  the  first  year,  and  I  got  so  used  to  it  that 
when  I  moved  to  one  that  is  six  inches  larger  each  way,  I 
positively  rattled  around  in  it.  Miss  Ryder  sent  me  to 
ask  you  to  go  to  her  sitting-room.  I'll  come  and  call  as 
soon  as  you've  unpacked  and  settled." 

She  went  away,  and  Belinda,  after  dabbing  a  powder- 
puff  recklessly  over  her  eyelids  and  nose,  hurried  to  the 
private  sitting-room,  which  was  the  Principal's  sanctum. 

Miss  Lucilla,  slim,  erect,  well  gowned,  superior,  sat  at 
a  handsome  desk  between  the  front  windows.  Miss  Em- 
meline,  a  delightful  wash  drawing  of  her  strongly  etched 
sister,  was  talking  with  two  twittering  girls  at  the  oppo- 
site end  of  the  room.  Miss  Emmeline  was  always  de- 
tailed to  the  sympathetic  task.  Her  slightly  vague  gentle- 
ness was  less  disconcerting  to  sentimental  or  homesick 
pupils  than  Miss  Lucilla's  somewhat  glacial  dignity. 

Belinda  hesitated  upon  the  threshold.  Miss  Emmeline 
bestowed  upon  her  a  detached  and  impersonal  smile. 
Miss  Lucilla  summoned  her  with  an  autocratic  move  of  a 
slender  hand,  a  gesture  so  imperious  that  it  was  with  dif- 
ficulty the  new  teacher  refrained  from  an  abject  salaam. 

"  Miss  Carewe,"  said  the  smooth,  cool  voice,  "  some  of 
the  young  ladies  want  to  go  to  the  theatre  to-night. 
School  does  not  begin  until  to-morrow ;  there  are  no  du- 
ties to  occupy  their  time  and  attention,  and  we  are,  of 


12  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

course,  liable  to  an  epidemic  of  homesickness  and  hysteria. 
Under  the  circumstances  the  theatre  idea  is  a  good  one. 
It  will  distract  their  minds.  I  have  selected  a  suitable 
play,  and  you  will  chaperon.  The  teachers  who  have  been 
here  before  will  be  needed  to  assist  me  with  certain  pre- 
liminary arrangements  to-night.  Moreover,  you  seem  to 
be  cheerful,  and  at  present  the  young  ladies  need  to  be 
inoculated  with  cheerfulness.  Be  very  careful,  however, 
to  be  dignified  first  and  cheerful  afterward.  Remember, 
however  young  you  may  look  or  feel,  you  are  a  teacher 
with  responsibility  upon  your  shoulders.  You  must  make 
the  pupils  understand  that  you  cannot  be  overrun,  even 
though  you  are  young.  Unless  you  take  a  very  wise 
stand  from  the  first  your  position  will  be  difficult  and 
you  will  be  of  no  value  to  us.  Be  reasonable  but  uncom- 
promising." 

Belinda  had  been  listening  attentively.  Already  she  be- 
gan to  hear  the  whirring  of  wheels  within  wheels  in  this 
work  of  hers,  began  to  understand  that  in  city  pri- 
vate-school life  "  face  "  must  be  preserved  as  religiously 
as  in  Chinese  ceremonial  circles;  but  she  recognised  in 
Miss  Lucilla  a  woman  who  understood  her  problem,  and 
she  found  this  middle-aged  spinster,  with  the  keen  eyes, 
the  Roman  nose,  the  firm  lips,  and  the  grande-dame  man- 
ner, interesting. 

"  How  many  girls  will  go  ?  "  she  asked  meekly. 


BELINDA   AND    THE    TWELVE  13 

"  Twelve." 

Belinda  gasped.  Twelve  strange,  homesick  girls !  She 
wondered  if  they  would  all  be  as  big  as  the  two  with  Miss 
Emmeline. 

"  The  theatre  is  the  Garrick.  You  will  start  at  five 
minutes  of  eight." 

Miss  Lucilla  turned  to  her  desk.  The  interview  was 
finished.  No  one  ever  lingered  after  Miss  Lucilla  had  said 
her  say. 

Belinda  went  back  to  her  room.  On  the  way  she  met 
Miss  Barnes. 

"  Where  is  the  Garrick  Theatre  ?  "  she  inquired. 

The  teacher  of  mathematics  stopped  and  looked  at  her. 

"  Thirty-fifth  Street,  between  Fifth  and  Sixth  Avenues. 
Walk  over  and  take  the  stage  or  the  Sixth  Avenue  car. 
Make  the  girls  walk  in  twos  and  the  couples  close  to- 
gether. Walk  behind  them.  Watch  them.  They'll  stand 
it.  Don't  let  them  laugh  or  talk  loud  or  giggle  like  idiots. 
I  suppose  you  may  as  well  get  broken  in  first  as  last." 

The  voice  and  manner  were  brusque,  but  the  eyes  had 
a  kindly  gleam,  and  Belinda  was  devoutly  thankful  for 
the  information  so  curtly  given. 

"  Do  they  ever  cry  in  the  street  cars?  "  she  asked  with 
an  air  of  grim  foreboding. 

Miss  Barnes's  eyes  relented  still  further. 

"  No,  but  they  flirt  in  the  street  cars." 


U  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  Not  really."  Belinda's  tone  expressed  incredulous 
disgust. 

"  Really.  By  the  time  you've  chaperoned  miscellaneous 
specimens  of  the  up-to-date  young  person  for  a  few 
months,  Miss  Carewe,  you'll  not  be  surprised  at  any 
breach  of  good  taste.  The  girls  carry  on  handkerchief 
flirtations  with  strangers  from  the  windows." 

"  Girls  from  respectable  families  ?  " 

"  Girls  from  excellent  families.  Of  course,  there  are 
numbers  of  well-bred  girls  who  behave  correctly;  and 
there's  nothing  actually  bad  about  the  ones  who  behave 
badly.  They  are  merely  lacking  in  good  taste  and  over- 
charged with  animal  spirits  or  sentimentality.  I'm  always 
surprised  that  they  don't  get  into  all  sorts  of  disgraceful 
scrapes,  but  they  seldom  do.  We  have  to  be  eternally 
vigilant,  though." 

"  But  handkerchief  flirtation  is  so  unspeakably  com- 
mon," said  Belinda  emphatically — then,  with  a  twinkle, 
"  and  such  a  desecration  of  a  really  fine  art." 

Miss  Barnes  shook  her  head. 

"  The  Misses  Ryder  haven't  any  sense  of  humour,"  she 
warned ;  "  you'd  better  let  your  conversation  be  yea,  yea, 
and  nay,  nay  " — but  she  smiled. 

At  five  minutes  to  eight  the  Youngest  Teacher  stood  in 
the  lower  hall,  surrounded  by  schoolgirls  of  assorted  sizes 
and  shapes,  and  prayerfully  hoping  that  she  didn't  look 
as  foolish  as  she  felt. 


BELINDA   AND    THE    TWELVE  15 

One  of  the  older  teachers,  commissioned  by  Miss  Ryder, 
had  come  down  to  see  the  expedition  fairly  started.  She 
was  a  plump,  sleek  woman  with  an  automatic  smile  and  a 
pneumatic  manner. 

"  You  will  all  give  your  car  fares  to  Miss  Carewe, 
young  ladies,"  she  purred.  "  You  have  your  rubbers  ? 
That's  right.  The  pavements  are  damp.  Miss  Bowers 
and  Miss  Somerville,  you  may  lead.  Fall  in  closely,  in 
couples,  and  be  very  careful  not  under  any  circumstances 
to  become  separated  from  the  chaperon.  She  will  report 
any  annoyance  you  may  cause  her.  I  hope  you  will  have 
a  delightful  evening." 

The  door  closed  upon  her  unnatural  amiability.  Six 
couples  swung  into  the  street,  with  Belinda  at  their  heels. 
Out  of  the  grim,  inclosing  walls,  with  the  cool,  moist  air 
in  their  faces,  the  lights  reflected  gayly  in  the  glistening 
pavements,  the  cabs  and  carriages  dashing  by,  the  mystery 
and  fascination  of  a  great  city  clinging  around  them,  and 
a  matinee  idol  beckoning  them,  the  girls  began  to  find  life 
more  cheerful.  Even  fat,  babyish  little  Kittie  Dayton, 
whose  face  was  swollen  and  blotted  almost  beyond  human 
semblance  by  six  hours  of  intermittent  weeping,  stopped 
blowing  her  nose  long  enough  to  squeal  delightedly : 

"  Oh-e-e !    The  man  kissed  the  lady  in  that  cab." 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  Belinda  stopped  a  stampede 
in  the  direction  of  the  hansom.  This  was  seeing  New 


1 6  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

York.  The  melancholy  atmosphere  of  the  school  was  for- 
gotten. 

They  giggled  in  the  car.  It  worried  Belinda.  Later 
she  learned  to  bow  to  the  inevitable.  The  young  man  who 
gave  Amelia  Bowers  his  seat  was  sociably  inclined ;  but, 
on  the  whole,  Amelia  behaved  very  well,  though  she  ad- 
mitted, later,  that  she  thought  he  had  "  most  romantic 
eyes,  and  a  perfectly  elegant  waistcoat." 

Belinda  squirmed  on  the  car.  Arrived  at  the  theatre 
she  squirmed  still  more.  The  lobby  was  well  filled.  It 
was  almost  time  for  the  curtain.  She  hated  leading  her 
line  down  the  middle  aisle  to  the  fourth  row;  she  hated 
the  smiles  and  comment  that  followed  them ;  she  loathed 
being  made  conspicuous — and  her  sentiments  were  not 
modified,  as  she  followed  the  last  of  the  girls  through  the 
door,  by  hearing  the  manager  say  jocularly  to  the  door- 
keeper : 

"  My  eye !  and  who's  chaperoning  the  pretty  chap- 
eron?" 

There  was  a  balk,  a  tangle,  when  the  fourth  row  was 
reached.  The  acquaintances  between  most  of  the  girls 
dated  from  the  morning  of  that  day,  but  already  each  of 
the  group  had  strong  convictions  in  regard  to  the  girls 
beside  whom  she  chose  to  sit,  and  hours  of  discussion  and 
debate  could  not  have  solved  the  problem  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  all  concerned. 


BELINDA   AND    THE    TWELVE  17 

Belinda  firmly  hustled  the  protestants  into  the  seats 
without  regard  to  prejudices,  and  sat  down  in  the  end 
chair  exhausted  and  rebellious.  She  detested  the  Young 
Person,  individually  and  collectively.  She  resented  be- 
ing bear  leader.  She  thought  longingly  of  the  Lanleyville 
High  School  and  the  home  friends,  and  the  fact  that  New 
York  seethed  round  the  theatre  in  which  she  sat  afforded 
her  no  consolation.  She  was  profoundly  indifferent  to  the 
popular  actor  before  whom  her  charges  became  as  dumb, 
adoring  worshippers.  In  a  little  while  she  would  have 
to  lead  her  flock  of  geese  home,  and  she  wished  she  dared 
lose  them  and  run  away.  She  felt  a  sudden  sympathy 
for  Kittie  Dayton,  whose  pudgy,  swollen  face,  though  now 
radiant,  looked  like  an  unfinished  biscuit.  Belinda,  too, 
was  homesick — deeply,  darkly,  dismally  homesick.  Even 
her  sense  of  humour  was  swamped.  June  and  the  end 
of  her  contract  loomed  but  vaguely  beyond  a  foggy  waste 
of  months. 

"  Isn't  he  just  too  perfectly  sweet,  Miss  Carewe?  "  gur- 
gled Amelia  Bowers  in  her  ear. 

Belinda  was  non-committal. 

"  Did  you  ever  meet  him  on  the  street  ?  " 

Belinda  had  never  had  that  rapture. 

"  Well,  one  might,  you  know,"  said  Amelia  hopefully. 
"  Alice  Ransom  plumped  right  into  Faversham,  one  day, 
when  she  was  in  New  York,  and  he  took  off  his  hat  to 


i8  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

her  and  said,  '  Beg  pardon.'  She  said  she  felt  perfectly 
faint.  His  voice  sounded  just  like  it  does  on  the  stage, 
and  he  had  the  most  fascinating  eyes  and  the  sweetest 
bulldog.  Alice  said  it  seemed  like  Fate,  running  right 
into  him  that  way,  the  first  time  she  went  out  alone.  She 
walked  down  Fifth  Avenue  at  that  same  time  every  day 
for  a  week,  but  she  never  met  him  again." 

The  star  and  his  leading  lady  fell  into  each  other's  arms 
for  the  final  curtain  and  later  were  brought  out  to  bow 
their  amiable  acknowledgements,  with  results  disastrous 
to  the  seams  of  Amelia's  white  gloves. 

The  crowd  rustled  to  its  feet,  preened  itself,  and  took 
lagging  flight  toward  the  street.  Belinda  marshalled  her 
flock  and  joined  the  exodus.  She  would  be  glad  to  reach 
the  hall  bedroom  and  shut  its  door  upon  a  world  that  was 
too  much  with  her.  She  coveted  the  stolid,  tranquil  so- 
ciety of  the  Pyramids.  They  would  watch  her  cry  with 
the  same  impenetrable  indifference  with  which  they  would 
watch  her  laugh,  but  presumably  the  Garrick  Theatre 
crowd  would  be  impressed  if  she  should  burst  into  floods 
of  tears. 

Drearily  she  followed  the  six  couples  of  chattering  girls 
who  dropped  adjectives  and  exclamations  as  they  went, 
and  who  were  quite  unable  to  keep  in  line,  according  to 
the  prescribed  formula,  in  the  midst  of  the  jostling,  hurry- 
ing crowd ;  but  Belinda  was  little  concerned  by  that.  As 


BELINDA   AND    THE    TWELVE  19 

a  matter  of  fact,  her  thoughts  were  self-centred.  This 
was  her  first  view  of  a  New  York  crowd,  but  she  received 
no  impression  save  that  men  and  women  alike  looked 
tired  and  dissatisfied,  though  surely  they  were  not  all 
elected  to  spend  the  next  nine  months  in  a  boarding- 
school. 

The  middle  aisle  emptied  her  into  the  lobby ;  and  as  she 
stood  there,  vaguely  conscious  that  something  was  in- 
cumbent upon  her,  her  wandering  glance  fell  upon  a 
young  man  across  the  lobby.  Belinda  gasped,  flushed. 
The  young  man's  eyes  met  hers  from  where  he  was 
wedged  against  the  wall.  His  face,  too,  lighted  into 
incredulous  joy.  It  was  a  good-looking  face,  a  gay,  boy- 
ish face,  but  browned  to  a  hue  that  contrasted  oddly  with 
the  city-bleached  skins  around  him.  Perhaps  that  was 
why  he  had  attracted  attention,  and  why  several  heads 
turned  to  discover  the  cause  of  the  sudden  illumination. 
When  the  owners  of  the  heads  saw  Belinda  they  under- 
stood and  smiled  benignantly.  All  the  world  loves  a 
lover. 

Belinda  was  utterly  unconscious  of  the  glances,  uncon- 
scious of  anything  save  that  the  gods  were  good. 

Here  was  Jack — Jack,  of  all  men,  dropped  into  the 
midst  of  her  gloom.  Hilarious  memories  and  cheerful 
anticipations  swarmed  into  her  mind.  Jack  stood  for 
home,  old  days,  old  lark?,  old  irresponsibility.  New  York 


20  CONCERNING    BELINDA 

disappeared  from  the  map.  The  Select'  School  for  Young 
Ladies  ceased  to  exist.  The  young  ladies  themselves  were 
blotted  out. 

Beaming,  dimpling,  Belinda  squeezed  a  way  across  the 
outgoing  current.  Grinning,  radiant,  Jack  Wendell 
forced  an  opening  for  his  square  shoulders. 

They  met  in  the  whirlpool,  and  he  cleverly  hauled  her 
into  a  high  and  dry  corner. 

"Belinda!" 

"Jack!" 

Everyone  near  them  smiled  sympathetically.  Belinda's 
enthusiasm  are  often  misleading,  and  on  this  occasion  she 
was  unreservedly  enthusiastic. 

"  Is  the  Massachusetts  in  ?  " 

"  Docked  yesterday." 

"  And  you  are  going  to  stay  ?  " 

"  Several  weeks — and  you  ?  " 

"  All  winter." 

Belinda's  delight  approached  effervescence.  Jack's  face 
was  a  luminous  harvest  moon.  Both  were  oblivious  to 
the  fact  that  he  was  still  holding  her  hand. 

They  talked  breathlessly  in  laughter-punctuated  gusts. 
They  went  back  to  the  beginning  of  things  and  rapidly 
worked  down  past  the  Deluge  which  separated  them,  and 
the  subsequent  wanderings.  They  brought  their  life  his- 
tories almost  up  to  date,  and  then,  suddenly,  Miss  Lucilla 
Ryder  entered  Belinda's  tale. 


BELINDA    AND    THE    TWELVE  21 

"  Miss  Lucilla  Ryder !  " 

As  she  spoke  the  name  she  underwent  a  sudden  trans- 
formation. Her  smiles  and  dimples  vanished,  her  face 
lengthened  miraculously,  her  eyes  stared  fixedly  at  some 
awesome  vision. 

Lieutenant  Wendell  cast  an  alarmed  look  over  his 
shoulder.  The  glance  encountered  a  blank  wall  and  re- 
turned to  Belinda's  face. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  what  is  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  The  girls !  "  said  Belinda  in  a  whisper. 

Once  more  the  Lieutenant  looked  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Where  ?  "  he  inquired,  eyeing  her  anxiously. 

"  I — don't — know,"  faltered  Belinda. 

"  Good  Heavens,  Belinda,"  protested  the  Lieutenant. 
"  Wake  up.  What's  the  matter  ?  Are  you  ill  ?  " 

Her  look  and  manner  distressed  him.  This  was  some 
sort  of  an  attack,  and  he  didn't  understand.  He  didn't 
know  what  ought  to  be  done. 

Belinda  had  clutched  his  coat  sleeve.  He  patted  her 
hand  encouragingly. 

"  There,  there,  never  mind,"  he  murmured  soothingly. 

Never  mind,  indeed!  Belinda  waxed  tremblingly 
wroth. 

"  I'm  in  a  cold  sweat.  They've  gone  home  alone.  Oh, 
Jack,  what  shall  I  do?  "  I  don't  dare  to  meet  Miss  Ryder. 
She'll  send  me  away  to-morrow.  It's  awful  1 " 


22  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

Still  holding  him  by  the  coat  sleeve,  she  was  pulling  him 
toward  the  door.  The  lobby  was  almost  empty.  The  few 
stragglers  were  eyeing  the  tableau  curiously. 

Masculine  common-sense  asserted  itself.  The  Lieuten- 
ant drew  Belinda's  hand  through  his  arm  and  stopped  her 
under  the  glare  of  the  electric  light. 

"  Don't  be  an  idiot,"  he  said  brusquely.  "  Who  is  Miss 
Ryder  ?  Who  are  the  girls  ?  " 

The  bullying  stirred  the  young  woman  to  intelligence. 

"  She's  principal  of  the  school.  I'm  teaching  there.  I 
brought  twelve  pupils  to  the  theatre." 

Amazement,  comprehension,  sympathy  chased  each 
other  across  the  man's  face  and  were  swallowed  by  wild 
mirth,  but  Belinda's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  his  mirth' 
evaporated. 

"  Never  mind.  Buck  up,  little  girl.  We'll  fix  it  some 
way.  We'll  get  a  cab.  We'll  kill  a  horse.  We'll  get 
there  before  they  can.  Maybe  they  won't  tell." 

"  Oh,  yes,  they  will.  If  they  were  only  boys — but  girls 
will."  Still  Belinda  revived  slightly  under  the  sugges- 
tion. 

"  Come  on.    We  must  hustle." 

He  hurried  her  to  the  door.  Alert,  energetic,  self-con- 
fident, he  had  taken  command  of  affairs.  Belinda's  spirits 
soared.  After  all,  she  reflected,  there's  something  about 
a  man.  He  has  his  moments. 


BELINDA    AND    THE    TWELVE  23 

It  was  raining.  The  crowd  had  scattered,  the  carriages 
had  gone.  As  Lieutenant  Wendell  raised  an  umbrella 
and  looked  sharply  around  for  a  cab  Belinda's  eyes  caught 
sight  of  a  row  of  dripping  umbrellas  ranged  along  the 
curb.  Below  the  umbrellas  were  carefully  lifted  petti- 
coats. She  counted  the  umbrellas.  There  were  twelve. 

"Jack,  look!" 

He  looked.    Belinda  darted  forward. 

The  umbrellas  were  lifted  and  disclosed  twelve  girlish 
faces.  On  each  face  was  a  wide-spreading,  comprehend- 
ing, maddening  grin,  but  not  a  girl  spoke. 

Belinda's  cheeks  were  crimson,  but  she  pulled  herself 
together  heroically. 

"  Good  night,  Mr.  Wendell.    Come,  girls." 

They  dropped  into  line,  still  grinning. 

Jack  stepped  to  Belinda's  side  for  a  moment. 

"  Cheer  up.  They  look  like  a  good  sort — but  if  there  is 
any  trouble  let  me  know,"  he  said  softly. 

The  teacher  and  her  charges  made  their  way  silently 
toward  the  car.  No  one  mentioned  the  lieutenant,  and 
Belinda  volunteered  no  explanation  or  excuse.  She  would 
keep  at  least  a  shred  of  dignity. 

Arrived  at  the  school  Belinda  saw  the  girls  deposited 
in  their  respective  rooms,  then  she  pulled  down  her  fold- 
ing bed,  crept  into  it,  and  cried  into  her  pillow.  If  the 
girls  should  tell — and  they  would — and  even  if  they 


24  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

didn't,  how  could  she  ever  have  any  authority  over  them  ? 

"  Be  very  careful  not  under  any  circumstances  to  be- 
come separated  from  the  chaperon."  Miss  Spogg's  soft 
voice  purred  it  into  her  ear. 

"  Remember,  however  young  you  may  look  or  feel,  you 
are  a  teacher  with  responsibility  upon  your  shoulders. 
Unless  you  take  a  very  wise  stand  from  the  first  you  will 
be  of  no  value  to  us."  Miss  Lucilla's  voice  now  smote 
the  ears  of  memory. 

If  the  girls  should  tell 

"  I've  changed  my  mind  about  girls,"  Belinda  an- 
nounced to  Lieutenant  Wendell,  on  her  free  evening,  a 
week  later.  "  They  are  much  nicer  than  boys,  and  quite 
as  generous." 


THE  MUSICAL  ROMANCE  OF  AMELIA 


CHAPTER   II 

THE    MUSICAL   ROMANCE   OF   AMELIA 

A    SUBTLE  thrill  was  disturbing  the  atmosphere  of 
high-bred  serenity  which  the  Misses  Ryder,  with 
a  strenuousness  far  afield  from  serenity,  fostered 
in  their  Select  School  for  Young  Ladies.     As  a  matter 
of  fact,  this  aristocratic  calm  existed  only  in  the  intent 
and  the  imaginations  of  the  lady  principals,  and  in  the 
convictions  of  parents  credulous  concerning  school  pros- 
pectuses.   With  fifty  girls  of  assorted  sizes  and  tempera- 
ments collected  under  one  roof  agitation  of  one  sort  or 
another  is  fairly  well  assured. 

Miss  Ryder's  teachers  were  by  no  means  blind  to  the 
excitement  pervading  the  school,  but  its  cause  was 
wrapped  in  mystery.  Amelia  Bowers  seemed  to  be  oc- 
cupying the  centre  of  the  stage  and  claiming  the  calcium 
light  as  her  due,  while  Amelia's  own  particular  clique 
gathered  in  knots  in  all  the  corners,  and  went  about  brim- 
ming over  with  some  portentous  secret  which  they  im- 
parted to  the  other  girls  with  a  generosity  approaching 
lavishness. 


28  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

It  was  after  running  into  a  crowd  of  arch  conspirators 
in  the  music-room  alcove  and  producing  a  solemn  hush 
that  Miss  Barnes  sought  the  Youngest  Teacher  and  la- 
bored with  her. 

"  Belinda,"  she  began  in  her  usual  brusque  fashion, 
"  what's  the  matter  with  the  girls?  " 

"  Youth,"  replied  the  Youngest  Teacher  laconically. 

She  was  trimming  a  hat,  and  when  Belinda  trims  a  hat 
it  is  hard  to  divert  her  serious  attention  to  less  vital  issues. 

"  Have  you  noticed  that  something  is  going  on,  and 
that  Amelia  Bowers  is  at  the  bottom  of  it  ?  " 

Belinda  looked  up  from  her  millinery  for  one  fleeting 
instant  of  scorn.  "  Have  I  noticed  it  ?  Am  I  stone  blind  ?  " 

Miss  Barnes  ignored  the  sarcasm. 

"But  what  are  they  doing?  The  light-headed  set  is 
crazy  over  something,  and  I  suppose  there's  a  man  in  it. 
They  wouldn't  be  so  excited  unless  there  were.  Now, 
who  is  he  ?  What  is  he  ?  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  Search  me,"  replied  the  Youngest  Teacher  with  a  flip- 
pancy lamentable  in  an  instructor  of  youth. 

"  I  suppose  Amelia  is  making  a  fool  of  herself  in  some 
way.  Sentimentality  oozes  out  of  that  girl's  pores." 

"  And  yet  I'm  fond  of  Amelia,"  protested  Belinda. 

Amelia  was  one  of  the  twelve  who  had  witnessed  the 
Youngest  Teacher's  first  disastrous  experiment  in  chap- 
eroning and  had  remained  loyally  mute. 


THE   MUSICAL   ROMANCE    OF   AMELIA    29 

Miss  Barnes  shook  her  head. 

"  My  dear,  I  can  stand  sharp  angles,  but  I  detest  a  hu- 
man feather  pillow.  Push  Amelia  in  at  one  spot  and  she 
bulges  out  at  another.  It's  impossible  to  make  a  clean- 
cut  and  permanent  impression  upon  that  girl." 

The  teacher  of  mathematics  always  stated  her  opinions 
with  a  frankness  not  conducive  to  popularity. 

Belinda  laughed. 

"  It  ought  to  be  easy  for  you  to  find  out  what  the  girls 
are  giggh'ng  and  whispering  about,"  continued  Miss 
Barnes.  "  They  are  so  foolish  over  you." 

"  I  hate  a  sneak." 

"But,  Belinda " 

"  Yes,  I  know — the  good  of  the  school  and  all  that. 
I've  every  intention  of  earning  my  salary  and  being  loyal 
to  Miss  Ryder.  I'll  keep  my  eyes  open  and  try  to  find  out 
why  the  girls  are  whispering  and  hugging  each  other; 
but  if  you  think  I'm  going  to  get  one  of  the  silly  things 
into  my  room,  and  because  she's  fond  of  me  hypnotise 
her  into  a  confidence,  and  then  use  it  to  bring  punishment 
down  on  her  and  her  chums — I'm  not!  " 

"  But  what  do  you  suppose  is  the  trouble  ?  "  asked  the 
Elder  Teacher. 

"  I  don't  believe  there  is  any  trouble.  Probably 
Amelia's  engaged  again.  If  she  is  it's  the  sixth  time." 

"  That  wouldn't  stir  up  the  other  girls." 


30  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  Wouldn't  it  ?  My  dear,  you  may  know  cube  roots,  but 
you  don't  know  schoolgirls.  An  absolutely  fresh  engage- 
ment is  enough  to  make  a  flock  of  girls  twitter  for  weeks. 
If  there  are  smuggled  love  letters  it's  convulsing,  and  if 
there's  parental  disapproval  and  '  persecution '  the  thing 
assumes  dramatic  quality.  Probably  all  the  third-floor 
girls  gather  in  Amelia's  room  after  lights  are  out,  and 
she  tells  them  what  he  said,  and  what  she  said,  and  what 
papa  would  probably  say,  and  they  plan  elopements  and 
schemes  for  foiling  stern  teachers  and  parents.  Amelia 
won't  elope,  though.  She  won't  have  time  before  her  next 
engagement. 

A  bell  rang  sharply  below  stairs.  Miss  Barnes  sprang 
to  her  feet. 

There's  the  evening  study  bell.  I  must  go.  I'm  in 
charge  to-night.  But  they  do  elope  sometimes.  This 
school  business  isn't  all  farce.  Do  watch  Amelia,  Be- 
linda." 

Belinda  had  finished  the  hat  and  was  trying  it  on  before 
the  glass  with  evident  and  natural  satisfaction. 

"  My  respect  for  Amelia  would  soar  if  she  should  at- 
tempt an  elopement,  but  even  the  sea-serpent  couldn't 
elope  with  a  jellyfish.  Amelia's  young  man  may  be  a 
charmer,  but  he  couldn't  budge  Amelia  beyond  hysterics." 

In  the  history  of  the  school  there  had  been  an  experi- 
ment with  silent  study  in  the  individual  rooms;  but  an 


THE   MUSICAL   ROMANCE    OF   AMELIA    31 

impartial  distribution  of  fudge  over  the  bedroom  carpets, 
gas  fixtures  and  furniture,  an  epidemic  of  indigestion,  and 
a  falling  off  in  class  standing  had  effected  a  return  to 
less  confiding  and  more  effectual  methods  of  insuring 
quiet  study. 

As  Miss  Barnes  entered  the  study-room,  after  her  talk 
with  Belinda,  a  group  of  agitated  backs  surrounding 
Amelia  Bovvers  dispersed  guiltily,  and  the  girls  took  their 
seats  with  the  italicized  demureness  of  cats  who  have  been 
at  the  cream.  Amelia  herself  radiated  modest  self-esteem. 
She  was  IT;  she  was  up  to  her  eyebrows  in  romance! 
What  better  thing  had  life  to  offer  her  ? 

The  teacher  in  charge  looked  at  her  sharply. 

"  Miss  Bowers,  if  you  will  transfer  your  attention  from 
the  wall  paper  to  your  French  verbs  you  will  stand  a  bet- 
ter chance  of  giving  a  respectable  recitation  to-morrow." 

Amelia's  dreamy  blue  eyes  wandered  from  the  intricate 
design  on  the  wall  to  the  pages  of  her  book,  but  they  were 
still  melting  with  sentiment,  and  her  pink  and  white  face 
still  held  its  pensive,  rapt  expression. 

"  J'aime,  tu  dimes,  il  dime"  she  read.  "II  aime!" — 
she  was  off  in  another  trance. 

Miss  Barnes  would  have  builded  better  had  she  recom- 
mended algebraic  equations  instead  of  French  verbs. 

Following  the  study  hour  came  an  hour  of  recreation 
before  the  retiring  bell  rang.  Usually  the  girls  inclined 


32  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

to  music  and  dancing  in  the  parlours,  but  now  the  tide  set 
heavily  upstairs  toward  Amelia's  room,  which  was  at  the 
back,  and  was  the  most  coveted  room  in  the  house  because 
the  most  discreetly  removed  from  teachers'  surveillance. 

When  Miss  Barnes  passed  the  door  later  she  heard  the 
twang  of  a  guitar  and  Amelia's  reedy  voice  raised  in  song. 
The  teacher  smiled.  Harmless  enough,  certainly.  Prob- 
ably she  had  been  over-earnest  and  suspicious. 

Meanwhile,  behind  the  closed  door  the  girls  of  Amelia's 
set  were  showing  a  strange  and  abnormal  interest  in  her 
music — an  interest  hardly  justified  by  the  quality  of  the 
performance.  The  lights  in  the  room  were  turned  down 
as  low  as  possible.  Amelia  and  her  roommate,  Laura  May 
Lee,  were  crouched  on  the  floor  close  by  the  open  window, 
beyond  which  the  lights  of  the  houses  around  the  square 
twinkled  in  the  clear  dark  of  the  October  night. 

Huddled  close  to  th'e  two  owners  of  the  room  on  the 
floor  were  six  other  girls,  all  big-eyed,  expectant,  athrill 
with  interest  and  excitement. 

Amelia  touched  her  guitar  with  a  white,  if  somewhat 
pudgy,  hand,  and  sang  a  few  lines  of  a  popular  love  song. 
Then  suddenly  she  stopped  and  leaned  forward,  her  el- 
bows on  the  windowsill,  her  lips  apart,  her  plump  figure 
actually  intense.  The  other  girls  edged  closer  to  the 
window  and  listened  with  bated  breath.  A  moment's  hush 
• — then,  out  of  the  night,  came  an  echo  of  Amelia's  guitar, 


"Amelia  touched  her  guitar  with  a  white,  pudgy  hand" 


THE   MUSICAL   ROMANCE    OF   AMELIA   33 

and  a  tenor  voice  took  up  the  song  where  she  had  left  it. 

A  sigh  of  satisfaction  went  up  from  the  group  by  the 
window,  and  Amelia  laid  one  fat  hand  upon  what  she 
fondly  believed  to  be  the  location  of  her  heart.  The 
stage  business  was  appropriate,  but  the  star's  knowledge 
of  anatomy  was  limited,  and  the  gesture  indicated  acute 
indigestion. 

The  other  girls,  however,  were  properly  impressed. 

"  It's  him,"  murmured  the  fair  one  rapturously,  as 
reckless  of  grammar  as  of  anatomical  precision.  "  Oh, 
girls,  isn't  it  just  too  sweet ;  what  a  lot  of  feeling  he  puts 
into  it !  " 

"  The  way  he  sings  '  My  Love,  My  Own/  is  simply  ele- 
gant, gasped  Laura  May.  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  a  bit  if 
he's  a  foreigner.  They're  so  much  more  romantic  over 
there.  An  Italian's  just  as  likely  as  not  to  fall  in  love  this 
way  and  go  perfectly  crazy  over  it." 

"  Maybe  he's  a  prince,"  Kittie  Dayton  suggested. 
"  The  folks  on  this  block  go  round  with  princes  and 
counts  and  earls  and  things  all  the  time.  Like  as  not  he's 
visiting  somebody,  and " 

"  If  he  were  an  Italian  prince  he  wouldn't  sing  such 
good  English,"  put  in  Serena  Adams.  Serena  hailed  from 
Massachusetts  and  hadn't  the  fervid  exotic  imagination 
characteristic  of  the  daughters  of  the  South. 

"  Well,  earls  are  English," 


34  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  Earls  don't  sing." 

"Why  don't  they?" 

Serena  tried  in  vain  to  imagine  the  English  earl  of  her 
fiction  reading  warbling  love  songs  out  of  a  back  window 
to  an  unknown  charmer,  but  gave  it  up. 

"  I  think  he's  a  poet,"  Amelia  whispered,  "  or  maybe  a 
musician — one  of  the  high-strung,  quivering  kind,  don't 
you  know."  They  all  knew. 

"  They're  so  sensitive — and  responsive." 

Amelia  spoke  as  though  a  host  of  lute-souled  artists  had 
worshipped  at  her  shrine  and  had  broken  into  melody  at 
her  touch. 

"  Like  as  not  he's  only  a  nice  American  fellow.  My 
cousin  Sam  at  Yale  sings  like  an  angel.  All  he  has  to  do 
is  sing  love  songs  to  a  girl  and  she's  positively  mushy. 

Amelia  looked  reflectively  at  the  last  speaker. 

"  Well,  I  wouldn't  mind  so  much,"  she  said.  "  If  he 
lives  on  this  block  his  folks  must  be  rich." 

"  Some  day,  some  day," 

yearned  the  tenor  voice. 

"  Some  day  I  shall  meet  you." 

"  My,  won't  it  be  exciting  when  he  does,"  gurgled 
Kittie. 

"  Does  he  do  this  every  night  ?  "  Serena  asked.  This 
was  her  first  entrance  into  the  romantic  circle. 


THE   MUSICAL   ROMANCE    OF   AMELIA   35 

"  Five  nights  now,"  Laura  May  explained.  "  Amelia 
was  just  sitting  in  the  window  Wednesday  night  playing 
and  singing,  and  somebody  answered  her.  Then  they 
played  and  sang  back  and  forth.  We  were  awfully  afraid 
the  servants  in  the  kitchen  would  hear  it  and  report,  but 
they  didn't.  It's  been  going  on  every  night  since.  We're 
most  afraid  to  go  outside  the  house  for  fear  he'll  walk 
right  up  and  speak." 

"  He  wouldn't  know  you." 

Amelia  turned  from  the  window  to  look  scornfully  at 
the  sordid-souled  Serena. 

"  Not  know  me !  Why,  he'd  feel  that  I  was  The  One, 
the  moment  he  saw  me.  It's  like  that  when  you  love  this 
way." 

She  pillowed  her  chin  on  her  arms  again  and  stared  sen- 
timentally into  the  back  yard. 

"  Only  this,  only  this,  this,  that  once  you  loved  me. 
Only  this,  I  love  you  now,  I  love  you  now — I  lo-o-ve  you-u-u  now." 

The  song  ended  upon  a  high,  quavering  note  just  as  the 
retiring  bell  clanged  in  the  hall. 

The  visiting  girls  waited  a  few  moments,  then  reluc- 
tantly scrambled  to  their  feet  and  started  for  their  rooms. 
But  Amelia  still  knelt  by  the  window. 

"  I'm  positive  he  has  raven  black  hair  and  an  olive  com- 
plexion," she  said  to  Laura  May  as  finally  she  drew  the 
shade  and  began  to  get  ready  for  bed. 


36  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

The  next  morning  the  Youngest  Teacher  took  the  girls 
for  their  after-breakfast  walk.  Trailing  up  and  down  the 
streets  at  the  tail  of  the  "  crocodile  "  was  one  of  the  fea- 
tures of  the  boarding-school  work  which  she  particularly 
disliked ;  but,  as  a  rule,  the  proceeding  was  commonplace 
enough. 

For  a  few  mornings  past  Belinda  had  noticed  something 
unusual  about  the  morning  expedition.  She  was  used  to 
chattering  and  giggling.  She  had  learned  that  the  pass- 
ing of  a  good-looking  young  man  touched  off  both  the 
giggles  and  the  chatter.  She  had  even  forced  herself  to 
watch  the  young  man  and  see  that  no  note  found  its  way 
from  his  hand  to  that  of  one  of  the  girls;  but  this  new 
spirit  was  something  she  couldn't  figure  out. 

In  the  first  place  the  girls  developed  a  mad  passion  for 
walking  around  the  block.  Formerly  they  had  begged  her 
to  ramble  to  Fifth  Avenue  and  to  the  Park.  One  saw 
more  pedestrians  on  the  avenue  than  elsewhere  at  that 
hour  of  the  morning ;  and,  if  one  walked  to  the  Park,  one 
might  perchance  be  late  for  chapel  and  have  to  stay  out 
in  the  hall  until  it  was  over.  But  now  Fifth  Avenue  held 
no  charms;  the  Park  did  not  beckon.  Round  and  round 
the  home  block  the  crocodile  dragged  its  length,  with 
Amelia  and  Laura  May  at  its  head  and  Belinda  bringing 
up  the  rear.  Men  were  leaving  their  homes  on  their  way 
to  business,  and  every  time  a  young  man  made  his  ap- 


3 
O 

.a 
a 


pearance  upon  the  steps  of  one  of  the  houses  on  the  cir- 
cuit something  like  an  electric  shock  ran  along  the  school 
line  and  the  crocodile  quivered  from  head  to  tail. 

The  problem  was  too  much  for  the  Youngest  Teacher. 
She  led  her  charges  home  in  time  for  chapel,  and  medi- 
tated deeply  during  the  morning  session. 

Late  on  that  same  afternoon  Belinda  was  conferring 
with  Miss  Lucilla  Ryder  when  the  maid  brought  a  card 
to  the  principal. 

"  '  Mr.  Satterly  " — I  don't  know  the  gentleman.  What 
did  he  look  like,  Katy?" 

"  Turribly  prosperous,  ma'am." 

"  Ah !  possibly  some  one  with  a  daughter.  Miss 
Carewe,  will  you  go  down  with  me  ?  I  am  greatly  pressed 
for  time.  Perhaps  this  is  something  you  could  attend  to." 

Belinda  followed  the  stately  figure  in  softly  flowing 
black.  Miss  Ryder  always  looked  the  part.  No  parent 
could  fail  to  see  her  superiority  and  be  impressed. 

The  little  old  gentleman  who  rose  to  greet  them  in  the 
reception-room  was  not,  however,  awed  by  Miss  Luci-lla's 
gracious  elegance. 

He  was  a  corpulent,  red-faced  little  man  with  a  bristling 
moustache  and  a  nervous  manner;  his  voice  when  he 
spoke  was  incisive  and  crisp. 

"  Miss  Ryder,  I  presume." 

Miss  Ryder  bowed. 


38  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  This  is  Miss  Carewe,  one  of  our  teachers,"  she  said, 
waving  both  Belinda  and  the  visitor  toward  seats. 

Mr.  Satterly  declined  the  seat. 

"  I've  come  to  ask  you  if  you  know  how  your  pupils 
are  scandalizing  the  neighborhood,"  he  said  abruptly. 

Belinda  jumped  perceptibly.  Miss  Ryder's  lips  straight- 
ened slightly,  very  slightly,  but  she  showed  no  other  sign 
of  emotion. 

"  I  am  not  aware  of  any  misconduct  on  the  part  of  the 
young  ladies."  Her  manner  was  the  perfection  of  courte- 
ous dignity.  Belinda  mentally  applauded. 

"  It's  scandalous,  madam,  scandalous,"  sputtered  the  old 
gentleman,  growing  more  excited  with  every  second. 

"  So  you  observed  before,  I  believe.  Will  you  kindly 
tell  me  the  nature  of  the  offence  ?  " 

"  Clandestine  love-making  with  the  Astorbilt's  coach- 
man— for  five  nights,  flirting  out  of  windows,  singing 
mawkish  songs  back  and  forth  to  each  other  till  it's 
enough  to  make  a  man  sick.  My  daughters  hanging  out 
of  our  back  window  to  hear!  Nice  example  for  them! 
Nice  performance  for  a  school  where  girls  are  supposed 
to  be  taken  care  of !  " 

A  faint  flush  had  crept  into  Miss  Ryder's  cheeks.  A 
great  awakening  light  had  dawned  in  Belinda's  brain. 

"  Amelia,"  she  murmured. 

Miss  Ryder  nodded  comprehension. 


"'It's  scandalous,  madam'" 


THE   MUSICAL   ROMANCE   OF   AMELIA   39 

"  She's  so  romantic,  and  she  supposed  it  was  Prince 
Charming." 

Again  the  principal  nodded.  She  was  not  slow  of  com- 
prehension. 

"  One  of  our  young  ladies  is  excessively  romantic,"  she 
explained  to  the  irate  Mr.  Satterly.  "  I  think  I  under- 
stand the  situation,  and  I  shall  deal  with  it  at  once.  I  am 
grieved  that  the  neighbors  have  been  annoyed." 

The  old  gentleman  relented  slightly.  "  Well,  of  course, 
I  thought  you  ought  to  know,"  he  said. 

"  You  were  quite  right.  I  am  deeply  indebted  to  you, 
and  shall  be  still  more  so  if  you  will  not  mention  the  un- 
fortunate incident  to  outsiders.  Good-morning." 

The  door  closed  behind  him. 

Principal  and  teacher  faced  each  other.  Miss  Ryder's 
superb  calm  had  vanished.  Her  eyes  were  blazing. 

"  Dis-gust-ing!  "  she  said. 

Belinda  wrestled  heroically  to  suppress  a  fit  of  untimely 
mirth.  She  knew  Amelia  and  her  set  so  well.  She  could 
picture  each  detail  of  the  musical  flirtation,  each  ridiculous 
touch  of  sentimentality. 

"  I  shall  expel  her." 

Miss  Ryder's  tone  was  firm. 

Belinda  laid  a  soft  hand  impulsively  upon  the  arm  of 
the  August  One.  "  She  isn't  bad — just  foolish " 

"  She's  made  the  school  ridiculous." 


40  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  The  school  can  stand  it.  She's  made  herself  more 
ridiculous,  and  it  will  be  hard  for  her  to  stand  that." 

"  How  would  you  punish  her  ?  " 

"  Tell  the  story  to  the  whole  school  to-morrow.  Rub 
in  the  fact  that  the  serenader  is  a  coarse,  common,  illiterate 
groom.  Mention  that  the  stablemen  and  other  servants 
all  around  the  block  are  chuckling  over  the  thing.  Rob 
the  episode  of  every  atom  of  romance.  Make  it  utterly 
vulgar,  and  sordid,  and  ugly,  and  absurd." 

Miss  Ryder  looked  at  the  Youngest  Teacher  with  some- 
thing akin  to  admiration. 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,  Miss  Carewe.  It  will  be  pun- 
ishment enough.  I'll  mention  no  names." 

"  Oh,  no.    Everyone  will  know." 

There  was  a  short  but  dramatic  special  session  the  next 
morning.  The  principal  slew  and  spared  not ;  and  all  the 
guilty  squirmed  uncomfortably,  while  the  arch  offender 
hid  her  face  in  her  hands  and  sobbed  miserably  over  shat- 
tered romance  and  open  humiliation. 

Even  her  boon  companions  tittered  and  grinned  deri- 
sively at  her  as  she  fled  to  her  room  when  the  conference 
ended. 

But  the  Youngest  Teacher  followed,  and  her  eyes  were 
very  kind. 


THE   ELOPEMENT   OF   EVANGELINE 
MARIE 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   ELOPEMENT   OF   EVANGELINE   MARIE 

EVA  MAY  rose,  like  a  harvest  moon,  above  the  Ry- 
der school  horizon  late  in  November.  Large  bodies 
being  proverbially  slow  of  motion,  she  had  occu- 
pied the  first  two  months  of  the  school  year  in  acquiring 
enough  momentum  to  carry  her  from  Laurelton,  Missis- 
sippi, to  New  York  and  install  her  in  the  Misses  Ryder's 
most  desirable  room — providentially  left  vacant  by  a  de- 
fection in  the  school  ranks. 

The  price  of  the  room  was  high,  but  money  meant  noth- 
ing to  Eva  May.  Creature  comfort  meant  much.  The 
new  pupil  clamoured  for  a  private  bath,  but  finally  re- 
signed herself  to  the  least  Spartan  variety  of  school  sim- 
plicity, bought  a  large  supply  of  novels,  made  an  arrange- 
ment by  which,  for  a  consideration,  the  second-floor  maid 
agreed  to  smuggle  fresh  chocolates  into  the  house  three 
times  a  week,  unpacked  six  wrappers,  and  settled  down 
to  the  arduous  process  of  being  "  finished  "  by  a  winter  in 
New  York. 

Miss  Lucilla  Ryder,  conscientious  to  a  fault  in  educa- 


44  CONCERNING    BELINDA 

tional  matters,  made  an  effort  to  plant  Eva  May's  feet 
upon  the  higher  paths  of  learning,  and  enrolled  the  girl 
in  various  classes ;  but  the  passive  resistance  of  one  hun- 
dred and  ninety  pounds  of  inert  flesh  and  a  flabby  mind 
were  too  much  for  the  worthy  principal. 

"  We  must  do  what  we  can  with  her,"  Miss  Lucilla  said 
helplessly  to  the  Youngest  Teacher.  "  She  may  acquire 
something  by  association ;  and,  at  least,  she  seems  harm- 
less." 

Belinda  agreed  with  due  solemnity. 

"  Yes,  unless  she  falls  upon  someone,  she'll  do  no  active 
damage." 

"  But  her  laziness  and  lack  of  ambition  set  such  bad 
standards  for  the  other  girls,"  sighed  Miss  Lucilla. 

Belinda  shook  her  head  in  protest. 

"  Not  at  all.    She's  valuable  as  an  awful  example." 

So  Eva  May,  whose  baptismal  name  was  Evangeline 
Marie,  and  whose  father,  John  Jenkins,  a  worthy  brewer, 
had  wandered  from  Ohio  to  the  South,  married  a  French 
Creole,  and  accidentally  made  a  colossal  fortune  out  of  a 
patent  spigot,  rocked  her  ponderous  way  through  school 
routine,  wept  over  the  trials  of  book  heroines,  munched 
sweets,  filled  the  greater  part  of  the  front  bench  in  certain 
classes  where  she  never,  by  any  chance,  recited,  furnished 
considerable  amusement  to  her  schoolmates,  and  grew 
steadily  fatter. 


ELOPEMENT   OF   EVANGELINE   MARIE    45 

"  If  she  stays  until  June  we'll  never  be  able  to  get  her 
out  through  the  door,"  prophesied  Miss  Barnes,  the 
teacher  of  mathematics  one  morning,  as  she  and  Belinda 
stood  at  the  door  of  the  music-room  during  Eva  May's 
practice  hour,  and  looked  at  the  avalanche  of  avoirdupois 
overflowing  a  small  piano-stool.  "  Something  really  must 
be  done." 

Chance  provided  something.  The  ram  in  the  thicket 
took  the  form  of  an  epidemic  started  by  Amelia  Bowers, 
whose  fond  parents  conceived  the  idea  that  their  child 
was  not  having  exercise  enough  in  city  confines  and  wrote 
that  they  wanted  her  to  have  a  horse  and  ride  in  the  Park. 
Being  a  southern  girl  she  was  used  to  riding,  but  they 
thought  it  would  be  well  for  her  to  have  a  few  lessons  at 
a  good  riding-school,  and,  of  course,  a  riding-master  or 
reliable  groom  must  accompany  her  in  the  Park. 

The  Misses  Ryder  groaned.  A  teacher  must  chaperon 
the  fair  Amelia  to  riding-school,  and  sit  there  doing  absent 
chaperoning  until  her  charge  should  be  restored  to  her  by 
the  riding-master.  The  teachers  were  already  too  busy. 
Still,  as  Mr.  Bowers  was  an  influential  patron,  the  ar- 
rangement must  be  made. 

No  sooner  was  the  matter  noised  abroad  than  the  whole 
school  was  bitten  by  the  riding  mania.  Those  who  could 
ride  wanted  to  ride.  Those  who  couldn't  wanted  to  learn. 
Frantic  appeals  went  forth  by  letters  to  parents  through- 


46  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

out  the  United  States,  but  riding  in  New  York  is  an  ex- 
pensive pastime,  and  only  five  fathers  responded  with  the 
desired  blessings  and  adequate  checks. 

Miss  Ryder  wrote  to  the  head  of  a  popular  riding- 
school  and  asked  that  someone  be  sent  to  talk  the  arrange- 
ments over  with  her. 

The  next  evening,  during  recreation  hour,  the  girls  for- 
tunate enough  to  be  in  the  drawing-room  saw  a  radiant 
vision  ushered  in  by  the  maid  and  left  to  await  the  com- 
ing of  the  principal. 

He  was  slim,  he  was  dapper,  he  was  exquisite,  he  was 
French.  His  small  black  moustache  curved  briskly  up- 
ward from  red  lips  curved  like  a  bow;  his  nose  was 
faultlessly  straight;  his  black  eyes  were  sparkling;  his 
brows  were  well  marked,  his  dark  hair  was  brushed  to  a 
high,  patent-leather  polish. 

He  wore  riding  clothes  of  the  most  elaborate  type,  de- 
spite the  hour  of  his  visit,  and  as  he  sat  nonchalantly 
upon  the  red-damask  sofa  he  tapped  his  shining  boots 
with  a  knowing  crop,  curled  his  moustache  airily,  arid 
allowed  his  glance  to  rove  boldly  over  the  display  of 
youthful  femininity.  A  number  of  the  older  girls  rose 
and  left  the  room,  but  a  majority  lingered  fearfully,  rapt 
in  admiration  and  wonder. 

Eva  May  palpitated  upon  a  commodious  window-seat. 
Here  was  a  realization  of  her  brightest  dreams.  So  Comte 


0, 

•5 


~ 

w 


- 

>,     O 


Robert  Montpelier  Ravillon  de  Brissac  must  have  looked 
as  he  sprang  lightly  from  his  curveting  steed  and  met  the 
Lady  Angelique  in  the  Park  of  Flamberon.  In  her  agi- 
tation she  tucked  a  caramel  in  each  cheek  and  forgot  that 
they  were  there. 

"  Young  ladies,  you  may  be  excused." 

Miss  Emmeline  Ryder  had  arrived. 

The  girls  departed,  and  a  buzz  of  excited  conversation 
floated  back  from  the  hall;  but  Evangeline  Marie  went 
silently  to  her  room,  sore  smitten. 

If  Miss  Lucilla  Ryder  had  been  selected  by  the  Fates 
to  meet  Monsieur  Albert  de  Puys,  the  chances  are  that 
some  riding-school  other  than  Manlay's  would  have  been 
patronized  by  the  Ryder  school,  for  Miss  Lucilla  was  a 
shrewd  judge  of  men  and  things;  but,  as  luck  would 
have  it,  Miss  Lucilla  was  suffering  from  neuralgia,  and 
Miss  Emmeline,  gentle,  vague,  confiding,  was  sent  down 
to  conduct  the  interview. 

Monsieur  de  Puys,  clever  in  his  own  fashion,  was  defer- 
ential and  diplomatic. 

Miss  Emmeline  quite  overlooked  his  beaux  yeux  and 
the  havoc  they  might  work  in  girlish  hearts.  She  made 
arrangements  for  the  lessons,  settled  the  details,  and  re- 
ported to  Miss  Lucilla  that  everything  was  satisfactory 
and  that  the  envoy  was  "  a  very  pleasant  person." 

So  the  girls  rode,  and  the  teachers  chaperoned,  and  the 
fathers  paid,  and  on  the  surface  all  went  well. 


48  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

Belinda  was  elected,  more  often  than  any  of  her  fellow- 
teachers,  to  take  the  girls  to  the  riding-school;  and,  on 
the  whole,  she  liked  the  task,  for  it  gave  her  a  quiet  hour 
with  a  book  while  the  young  equestriennes  tore  up  the 
tanbark  or  were  out  and  away  in  the  Park.  She  merely 
represented  the  conventions,  and  her  position  was  more 
or  less  of  a  sinecure.  Occasionally  she  watched  the  girls 
who  took  their  lessons  indoors,  and  she  conceived  a  vio- 
lent dislike  for  one  of  the  masters — a  Frenchman  with  an 
all-conquering  manner  and  an  impertinent  smile ;  but  she 
never  thought  of  taking  the  manner  and  smile  seriously. 
If  it  occurred  to  her  that  the  swaggering  Frenchman  de- 
voted himself  to  Eva  May  more  persistently  than  to  any 
of  the  other  pupils,  she  set  the  thing  down  to  Gallic  spirit 
and  admired  the  instructor's  bravery. 

Mounted  upon  a  sturdy  horse  built  more  for  strength 
than  for  speed,  Evangeline  Marie  was  an  impressive 
sight,  but  she  brought  to  the  exercise  an  energy  and  a 
devotion  that  surprised  everyone  who  knew  her. 

"  She'll  not  make  the  effort  more  than  once,"  Miss  Lu- 
cilla  had  said ;  but  the  weeks  went  by  and  still  Eva  May 
went  to  her  riding-lessons  with  alacrity  and  regularity. 
She  said  that  she  was  riding  to  reduce  her  flesh  and  had 
lost  six  pounds,  and  the  cause  seemed  so  worthy  that  the 
phenomenon  soon  ceased  to  excite  wonder. 

In  course  of  time  the  other  schoolgirls  who  belonged 


ELOPEMENT   OF   EVANGELINE   MARIE    49 

to  the  riding  contingent  dropped  the  fad,  but  still  Evan- 
geline  Marie  was  faithful.  All  through  April  and  into 
the  fragrant  Maytime  she  went  religiously  to  the  riding- 
school  twice  a  week,  but  all  of  her  lessons  were  taken 
outdoors  now,  and  Belinda  waited  upon  a  bench  near  the 
Park  entrance,  thankful  to  be  out  in  the  spring  world. 

A  good-looking  young  man,  wearing  his  riding  clothes 
and  sitting  his  horse  in  a  fashion  that  bespoke  long  ac- 
quaintance with  both,  passed  the  bench  with  surprising 
frequency,  and  in  course  of  time  it  was  borne  in  upon 
the  Youngest  Teacher  that  his  unfailing  appearance  dur- 
ing Eva  May's  lessons  was  too  methodical  to  be  a  mere 
coincidence.  But,  beyond  a  smile  in  his  eyes,  the  horse- 
man gave  no  sign  of  interest  in  the  lonely  figure  upon  the 
bench,  so  there  was  no  reason  for  resentment,  and  Belinda 
learned  to  look  for  the  bay  horse  and  its  boyish  rider 
and  for  the  smiling  eyes  with  a  certain  pleasant  expecta- 
tion that  relieved  her  chaperoning  duty  of  dullness. 

One  morning  she  sat  upon  her  own  particular  bench 
with  a  book  open  in  her  lap  and  a  listless  content  written 
large  upon  her.  Green  turf  and  leafy  boughs  and  tufts  of 
blossoms  stretched  away  before  her.  There  were  lilac 
scents  in  the  warm  spring  air  and  the  birds  were  twitter- 
ing jubilates.  The  man  on  the  bay  horse  had  ridden  past 
once,  and  the  smile  in  his  eyes  had  seemed  more  boyish 
than  ever.  She  wondered  when  he  would  come  by  again 


5o  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

— and  then,  looking  down  the  shaded  drive,  she  saw  him 
coming. 

Even  at  a  distance  she  recognised  something  odd  in  the 
fashion  of  his  approach.  He  was  bending  forward  and 
riding  rapidly — too  rapidly  for  compliance  with  Park 
rules.  She  watched  to  see  him  slow  down  and  walk  his 
horse  past  the  bench  in  the  usual  lingering  way;  but, 
instead,  he  came  on  at  a  run,  pulled  his  horse  up  abruptly, 
dismounted  and  came  toward  her  with  his  hat  in  his  hand. 

Belinda  drew  a  quick  breath  of  surprise  and  embarrass- 
ment, but  there  was  no  smile  in  the  eyes  that  met  hers, 
and  she  realised  in  an  instant  that  the  stranger  was  in 
earnest — too  much  in  earnest  for  thought  of  flirtation. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  was  saying.  "  Maybe  I'm 
making  an  ass  of  myself,  but  I  couldn't  feel  as  if  it  were 
all  quite  right.  I've  seen  you  here  so  often,  you  know, 
and  I  knew  you  were  chaperoning  those  schoolgirls,  and 
I  didn't  believe  you'd  allow  that  fat  one  to  go  off  in  a 
hansom  with  that  beast  of  a  Frenchman. 

"  Wh-w-what  ?  "  she  asked  breathlessly. 

"  You  didn't  know  ?  I  thought  not.  You  see,  I  was 
riding  past  one  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  gates  in  the  upper 
end  of  the  Park,  and  Peggy  here — my  horse — went  lame 
for  a  minute,  so  I  got  off  to  see  what  was  wrong.  Just 
then  up  came  the  Frenchman  and  your  fat  friend,  and 
he  climbed  off  his  horse  and  helped  her  down.  Anybody 
could  see  she  was  excited  and  ripe  for  hysterics,  and  De 


"'I  heard  him  say,  "Grand  Central,  and  hurry 


ELOPEMENT   OF  EVANGELINE  MARIE    51 

Puys  looked  more  like  a  wax  Mephistopheles  than  usual, 
so  I  just  fooled  with  Peg's  foot  and  watched  to  see  what 
was  up.  There  was  a  boy  on  hand  and  a  cab  was  stand- 
ing outside  the  gate.  Frenchy  gave  the  horses  to  the  boy 
and  boosted  the  girl  into  the  cab,  and  I  heard  him  say, 
'  Grand  Central,  and  hurry.'  They  went  off  at  a  run, 
and  I  mounted  and  was  starting  up  the  drive  when  all  of 
a  sudden  it  struck  me  that  the  thing  was  deuced  queer 
and  that  maybe  you  didn't  know  anything  about  it.  So 
I  piked  off  to  tell  you." 

Belinda  looked  at  him  helplessly. 

"  She's  eloped  with  him.  It's  her  money,  I  suppose. 
What  can  I  do?" 

The  stranger  sprang  into  his  saddle. 

"  Head  them  off,  of  course.  You  wait  at  the  gate  until 
I  lose  Peggy  and  get  a  cab.  Perhaps  we  can  catch  them 
at  the  station." 

He  was  gone,  and  Belinda  did  as  she  was  told.  It  was 
a  comfort  to  have  a  man  take  things  in  hand,  and  she 
didn't  stop  to  think  that  the  man  was  a  stranger. 

In  three  minutes  he  was  at  the  gate  with  a  cab,  helped 
her  into  it  and  climbed  in  himself. 

"  There's  an  extra  dollar  in  it  if  you  break  the  record," 
he  said  cheerfully  to  the  cabby,  and  off  they  clattered. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  on  the  way  to  the  station,  but 
as  the  stranger  paid  the  extra  dollar  Belinda  fumbled 
in  her  purse. 


52  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  Never  mind ;  we'll  settle  up  afterward.  Let's  see  if 
they  are  here." 

No  sign  of  the  runaway  couple.  Belinda  collapsed 
weakly  into  a  seat  and  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  Don't,  please  don't,"  begged  the  man  beside  her. 
"  You  sit  here  and  I'll  try  the  gatemen.  Anybody 'd  be 
likely  to  spot  a  freak  couple  like  that.  Perhaps  their 
train  hasn't  gone  yet." 

A  few  minutes  later  Belinda  saw  him  bolt  into  the 
waiting-room  and  stop  at  a  ticket  window. 

"  Come  on,"  he  said,  as  he  rushed  up  to  her.  "  They've 
gone  to  Albany — train  left  fifteen  minutes  ago.  Gateman 
thought  they  were  funny,  and  noticed  their  tickets.  He 
says  the  girl  was  crying.  We'll  have  to  step  lively." 

"  B-b-but  what  are  we  going  to  do  ?  "  stammered  Be- 
linda, as  he  hurried  her  through  the  gate  and  down  the 
long  platform. 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  to  tell  you.  We're  going  to  Albany  on 
the  Chicago  Express." 

He  helped  her  on  the  train,  deposited  her  in  a  seat  on 
the  shady  side  of  a  Pullman  car,  sat  down  beside  her  and 
fanned  his  flushed  face  with  his  cap. 

Belinda  strove  for  speech,  but  no  words  came.  Things 
appeared  to  be  altogether  out  of  her  hands. 

"  They  took  a  local  express,"  explained  the  stranger 
by  whom  she  was  being  personally  conducted.  "  Afraid 


ELOPEMENT   OF  EVAN  CELINE   MARIE    53 

to  wait  in  the  station,  I  suppose.  Our  train  passes  theirs 
up  the  road,  and  we'll  wait  for  them  in  Albany." 

"  But  perhaps  they'll  get  off  before  they  reach  Albany," 
replied  Belinda. 

"  Well,  their  tickets  were  for  Albany,  and  we'll  have 
to  gamble  on  that.  It's  a  fair  chance.  Probably  they 
want  to  lose  themselves  somewhere  until  the  storm  blows 
over  and  papa  makes  terms." 

"  But  why  should  you  go  to  Albany  ?  You've  been 
awfully  good  and  I'm  so  much  obliged  to  you,  but  now 
I'll  just  go  on  by  myself." 

He  looked  down  at  the  independent  young  woman,  and 
the  familiar  smile  came  back  into  his  eyes. 

"  That  would  be  a  nice  proposition.  I  can  see  a  life- 
size  picture  of  myself  letting  you  go  up  to  Albany  alone 
to  handle  De  Puys.  A  chap  like  that  needs  a  man.  You 
can  get  the  girl.  I  wouldn't  attempt  to  handle  her  with- 
out a  derrick,  but  I'll  just  make  a  few  well-chosen  re- 
marks to  that  rascally  Frenchman  myself." 

"  But  it  is  an  imposition  upon — —  " 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort.  It's  an  interposition — of  Provi- 
dence. I've  spent  weeks  wondering  how  it  could  ever  be 
done." 

Belinda  looked  puzzled.  "  You  knew  they  were  going 
to  elope  ?  " 

"  No,  that  wasn't  what  I  meant." 


54  CONCERNING  BELINDA 

"  It's  dreadful,  isn't  it?  "  wailed  Belinda. 

He  shook  his  head.    "  It's  heavenly,"  he  said. 

She  tried  to  look  puzzled  again,  but  broke  down, 
blushed,  and  became  absorbed  in  the  landscape. 

"  My  name  is  Morgan  Hamilton." 

She  shot  a  swift  look  at  him,  then  turned  to  the  window 
again. 

"  I'm  Miss  Carewe,  one  of  Miss  Ryder's  teachers." 

"  Yes ;  I  knew  you  weeks  ago." 

Belinda  lost  her  grasp  upon  her  dignity  and  laughed. 

"  Then  it  isn't  like  going  to  Albany  with  a  perfect 
stranger,"  she  said  with  an  air  of  profound  relief. 

The  trip  to  Albany  is  a  short  one — much  shorter  than 
the  railway  time-schedules  indicate.  Both  Belinda  and 
Morgan  Hamilton  are  prepared  to  testify  to  that  effect. 
Also,  they  are  willing  to  swear  that  the  time  between  the 
arrival  of  the  Chicago  Express  at  Albany  and  the  coming 
of  the  next  New  York  train  is  grossly  over-estimated. 
As  the  local  train  pulled  into  the  Albany  station  a  look 
of  conscious  guilt;  mingled  with  the  excitement  upon 
Belinda's  face. 

"  I  wonder  if  they  will  come,"  she  whispered. 

"  I'd  forgotten  all  about  them,"  confessed  the  man  at 
her  side. 

The  look  of  guilt  deepened.    She  had  forgotten,  too. 

They  came. 


Your  game's  up,  and  you  don't  marry  an  heiress  this  trip 


From  afar  off  the  waiting  couple  saw  Eva  May's 
mighty  bulk  and  the  dapper  figure  at  her  side. 

Belinda  stepped  forward  and  the  girl  saw  her.  There 
was  a  pause,  a  moment's  frightened  silence,  then  Evan- 
geline  Marie  made  a  noise  'twixt  a  groan  and  a  squeal  and 
clutched  her  beloved  one's  arm. 

Monsieur  de  Puys  looked  quickly  around,  saw  the  small 
but  determined  Nemesis  in  his  path,  and  swore  eloquently 
in  good  Anglo-Saxon. 

"  Get  into  a  cab,"  he  said  harshly  to  the  hysterical  girl 
beside  him;  and,  as  she  made  a  move  to  obey,  he  turned 
threateningly  to  Belinda — but  a  tall,  square-shouldered 
figure  intervened,  and  two  contemptuous  eyes  looked 
down  at  him. 

"  That's  enough,  you  contemptible  whelp,"  said  a  very 
low  but  emphatic  voice.  "  Your  game's  up,  and  you 
don't  marry  an  heiress  this  trip.  Now,  get  out,  before  I 
kick  you  out.  If  it  weren't  for  the  ladies  I'd  treat  myself 
to  the  satisfaction  of  kicking  you  before  you  could  go. 
I'll  cut  it  out  on  their  account,  but  if  ever  I  hear  of  your 
speaking  to  that  girl  again  or  mentioning  her  name  to 
anyone  I'll  make  it  my  business  to  look  you  up  and  thrash 
you  within  an  inch  of  your  scoundrelly  life." 

The  red  lips  of  Eva  May's  hero  curled  back  from  his 
white  teeth  in  a  snarl.  The  shallow,  handsome  face  was 
white  and  vicious,  but  the  insolent  black  eyes  of  the  cow- 


56  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

ard  could  not  meet  those  of  the  man  before  him.  A  curi- 
ous crowd  was  collecting. 

"  Get  out  of  this,"  said  Morgan  in  a  voice  that  held  a 
warning. 

And  the  Frenchman  went  at  once,  muttering  ineffectual 
vows  of  vengeance,  but  with  never  a  look  toward  the  fair 
Evangeline  Marie,  who  was  weeping  upon  Belinda's 
shoulder. 

The  next  train  from  the  west  took  on  only  three  pas- 
sengers at  Albany — a  fair,  good-looking  young  fellow  in 
riding  clothes,  a  fat,  red-eyed  girl  in  riding  habit,  and  a 
pretty  young  woman  in  conventional  garb.  The  fat  girl 
fell  into  a  seat,  shut  her  eyes,  and  sobbed  occasionally  in  a 
spasmodic  way. 

The  man  held  out  his  hand  to  the  young  woman. 

"  I'll  go  into  the  smoker.  I  can't  be  of  use  any  longer, 
but  I'll  see  that  you  get  a  cab,  and " 

He  hesitated,  looked  at  her  imploringly. 

"  And— if— if  I 

Belinda  smiled. 

"  Why,  I'd  be  delighted,"  she  said  in  answer  to  the 
question  in  his  face. 

"  Oh,  may  I  come  ?  Really  ?  That's  awfully  good  of 
you." 

And  as  he  sat  in  the  smoking-car  puffing  mechanically 
at  a  cigar  that  was  not  lighted  Morgan  Hamilton  vowed 
a  thank-offering  to  the  god  of  chance. 


A  WOLF   IN   THE   FOLD 


CHAPTER   IV 

A   WOLF   IN   THE  FOLD 

MISS  LUCILLA  RYDER,  clothed  in  stateliness  as 
in  a  garment,  was  conducting  a  business  inter- 
view in  her  study. 

Facing  her,  sat  a  slender  young  woman  gowned  in 
black.  The  black  frock,  the  black  hat,  the  black  gloves 
were  simple,  unobtrusive,  altogether  suitable  for  an  im- 
pecunious instructor  of  youth ;  'but  there  was  a  subtle 
something  about  them  that  would  have  whispered 
"  French "  to  a  worldly-wise  observer,  even  if  their 
wearer  had  not  been  speaking  the  purest  of  Parisian 
French  in  a  voice  calculated  to  impart  melody  to  any 
language. 

Miss  Lucilla  bent  upon  this  attractive  applicant  for  the 
position  left  vacant  by  the  illness  of  Madame  Plongeon — 
long-time  French  chaperon  in  the  Ryder  school — what  she 
fondly  believed  to  be  a  keen  and  penetrating  scrutiny. 

Mademoiselle  de  Courcelles  met  the  judicial  glance 
with  a  sweet  and  deprecatory  smile. 

In  Miss  Lucilla's  hand  were  several  letters,  each  written 


60  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

in  flowing,  graceful  French  upon  stationery  bearing  an 
imposing  crest.  Madame  la  duchesse  de  Rochechouart, 
Madame  la  comtesse  de  Pourtales,  Madame  la  comtesse 
de  St.  Narcy  had  in  those  gracious  letters  expressed  their 
enthusiastic  appreciation  of  Mademoiselle  de  Courcelles's 
rare  qualities  of  mind  and  heart,  their  absolute  confidence 
in  her  integrity  and  ability,  and  their  deep  regret  that 
they  had  been  unable  to  persuade  her  to  remain  in  Paris 
and  continue  her  supervision  of  the  education  of  certain 
prospective  dukes  and  counts. 

One  note,  less  aristocratic  in  character,  was  from 
Mrs.  Dent-Smyth,  head  of  the  teachers'  agency  to  which 
the  Misses  Ryder  resorted  in  emergencies  like  the  present 
one. 

This  worthy  lady  wrote  frankly  that  as  Mademoiselle 
de  Courcelles's  advent  had  been  almost  coincident  with 
Miss  Ryder's  request  for  a  teacher,  there  had  been  no 
time  to  investigate  the  Frenchwoman's  Paris  references. 
Mrs.  Dent-Smyth  was,  however,  of  the  opinion  that  these 
references  seemed  most  satisfactory,  and  she  believed  that 
a  personal  interview  with  the  applicant  would  convince 
Miss  Ryder  that  the  young  woman  was  a  very  superior 
person,  and  her  French  of  a  superfine  quality. 

Miss  Lucilla,  albeit  maintaining  a  non-committal  ex- 
terior, mentally  agreed  with  Mrs.  Dent-Smyth.  Made- 
moiselle de  Courcelles  was  distinguished  in  appearance, 


A    WOLF   IN   THE   FOLD  61 

polished  in  manner,  sweet  of  voice.  She  spoke  English 
haltingly,  but  her  French  was  of  a  quality  to  suit  the  most 
exacting  of  parents.  To  all  of  Miss  Ryder's  questions 
she  made  deferential,  modest,  yet  self-possessed  answer. 

She  was,  it  seemed,  but  newly  come  to  America. 
Financial  reverses  had  forced  her,  an  orphan  of  good 
family,  to  earn  her  living.  There  were  wealthy  and  in- 
fluential friends  who  were  willing  to  help  her,  but  a  De 
Courcelles — Mademoiselle  spoke  the  word  proudly — 
could  not  live  upon  charity.  She  had  taught  in  the  fami- 
lies of  several  of  these  friends,  but  the  situation  was  im- 
possible, and  she  had  decided  that  it  would  be  easier  to 
live  her  life  among  strangers,  where  she  would  be  un- 
hampered by  old  traditions  and  associations. 

Sounding  titles  flitted  through  the  tale,  brought  in  quite 
casually,  but  proving  none  the  less  impressive  to  a  thor- 
oughgoing republican. 

Miss  Lucilla  listened  thoughtfully,  glancing  from  time 
to  time  at  the  crests  upon  the  letters  she  held.  As  a  free- 
born  American  she  scorned  to  truckle  to  the  effete  aristoc- 
racy of  Europe;  but  still,  she  admitted,  there  was  really 
something  pleasing  about  a  title.  Of  course  she  had  al- 
ways been  very  particular  about  looking  up  references, 
but  this  was  an  exceptional  case.  She  would  consult  Miss 
Emmeline. 

Now  when  Miss  Lucilla  says  that  she  will  consult  Miss 


62  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

Emmeline,  her  mind  is  already  made  up.  Miss  Emmeline 
has  never,  by  any  cftance,  volunteered  an  opinion  upon  a 
subject  without  having  first  heard  the  elder  sister's  opin- 
ion upon  the  same  subject.  Having  heard,  she  echoes. 

"  I  believe  this  young  person  will  be  a  great  addition 
to  the  staff,"  said  Miss  Lucilla. 

"  I'm  sure  of  it,"  murmured  Miss  Emmeline. 

"  We  might  possibly  mention  in  our  next  circular  the 
names  of  the  noble  families  with  which  she  has  been 
associated  in  France." 

"  Certainly/'  echo  answered. 

So  Mademoiselle  de  Courcelles  was  engaged. 

Twenty-four  hours  later  the  new  French  teacher  and 
three  large  trunks  were  installed  in  a  small  room  on  the 
top  floor  of  the  Ryder  school.  The  size  and  number  of 
the  trunks  excited  comment  among  the  servants,  but  the 
expressman  who  carried  Mademoiselle's  impedimenta  up 
four  flights  of  stairs  noticed  that  the  trunks  were  sur- 
prisingly light  in  weight. 

From  the  first  Mademoiselle  was  a  success,  and  by  the 
time  she  had  spent  a  fortnight  in  the  school  her  popularity 
among  the  girls  moved  many  of  the  teachers  to  jealousy, 
and  even  wakened  in  Belinda's  heart  a  slight  sense  of  in- 
jury to  which  she  wouldn't  have  confessed  for  worlds. 
Miss  Barnes,  herself  impervious  alike  to  adoration  or  dis- 
approval, expressed  her  opinion  of  the  new  comer  with 
her  usual  frankness. 


A    WOLF  IN   THE  FOLD  63 

"  Cat !  "  she  said  calmly.  "  Graceful,  sleek,  purring, 
ingratiatory,  but  cat  all  the  same." 

"  She's  very  attractive,"  murmured  Belinda. 

"  Bad  eyes,"  Miss  Barnes  commented  curtly. 

"  Handsome  eyes." 

"  All  the  worse  for  that.  Mark  my  words,  that  woman 
isn't  to  be  trusted." 

But  Miss  Barnes  was  alone  in  her  verdict.  Mad- 
emoiselle taught  preparatoy  French  so  cleverly  yet  so 
modestly  that  Professor  Marceau  himself  expressed  his 
approval;  and  Professor  Marceau,  the  distinguished  and 
expensive  French  instructor-in-chief  of  the  school,  had 
Qver  before  unbent  to  a  subordinate. 

Under  Mademoiselle's  stimulus  the  twenty  perfunctory 
French  phrases  demanded  of  each  pupil  during  the 
progress  of  dinner  expanded  into  something  approaching 
French  conversation.  Amelia  Bowers  and  Laura  May 
Lee,  who  had  memorized  a  small  section  of  dialogue 
from  a  Labiche  play,  and  were  in  the  habit  of  reciting  it 
to  each  other  every  evening  with  much  expression, 
thereby  impressing  distant  teachers  with  the  idea  of  fluent 
French  chat,  abandoned  their  brilliant  scheme  to  talk  cha- 
otic French  with  Mademoiselle.  In  the  drawing-room 
during  evening  recreation  hour  girls  who  had  regarded 
conversation  with  Madame  Plongeon  as  punishment  dire, 
crowded  around  Mademoiselle  de  Courcelles,  listening 


64  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

breathlessly  to  her  vivacious  stories,  her  reminiscences  of 
life  among  the  French  nobility.  The  tide  of  flowers, 
fruit,  candy,  etc.,  that  had  flowed  Belinda's  way  set  heav- 
ily toward  the  new  teacher.  A  French  chaperon — once  a 
calamity  to  be  avoided  at  all  costs — became  the  heart's 
desire  of  all  shopping,  theatre-going  and  holiday-making 
pupils. 

"  She's  perfectly  lovely,  Miss  Carewe,"  gushed 
Amelia  Bowers,  "  and  she's  had  the  most  interesting  ex- 
periences. I  should  think  you  and  she  would  be  bosom 
friends.  You  couldn't  help  loving  her  if  you'd  just  get 
to  knowing  her  well.  Why,  every  single  one  of  our 
crowd  has  got  the  most  dreadful  crush  on  her.  Laura 
May  says  she's  just  like  a  heroine  out  of  a  book;  and 
you  needn't  think  because  she's  so  gay  and  jolly  that  she's 
always  been  happy.  That's  just  the  French  way.  She 
says  the  French  even  go  to  death  jesting.  Isn't  that 
splendid  ?  But  she's  had  awful  sorrows.  It  would  make 
you  cry  to  hear  her  talk  about  them — that  is,  she  doesnl 
exactly  tell  you  about  them,  you  know,  but  you  can  tell 
from  the  way  she  talks  that  she's  had  them,  and  that's 
what  makes  her  so  sympathetic  and  lovely  about  other 
people's  troubles.  Why,  I  could  just  tell  her  ANYTHING." 

Amelia  heaved  a  cyclonic  sigh,  and  assumed  the  expres- 
sion of  one  who  could  reveal  much  to  a  properly  sym- 
pathetic soul. 


'A    WOLF   IN   THE   FOLD  65 

Finding  no  encouragement  in  Belinda's  face,  she 
plunged  again  into  praise  of  Mademoiselle. 

"  All  the  girls  feel  that  way.  They  tell  her  every 
blessed  thing  that  ever  happened  to  them.  Laura  May 
says  she  never  saw  anybody  before  that  she  could  reveal 
her  most  sacred  feelings  to.  She  told  Mademoiselle  all 
about  Jim  Benton  the  very  first  night  she  met  her.  Mad- 
emoiselle says  she  had  almost  the  same  sort  of  a  time — she 
called  it  ' une  affaire' — with  Comte  Raoul  de  Cretigny, 
when  they  were  both  very  young,  but  that  one  does  get 
over  such  things.  She  encouraged  Laura  May  a  lot ;  but 
she  said  such  beautiful  things  about  first  love  and  about 
how  no  love  that  came  afterward  could  have  just  the 
same  exquisite  flavour — at  least  it  wasn't  exactly 
'  flavour '  she  used,  and  it  wasn't  '  bloom '  either,  but  it 
was  something  like  that.  Anyway,  Laura  May  cried 
bucketfuls,  and  yet  she  said  she  felt  encouraged  to  hope 
she  might  forget  and  love  again.  That's  like  Mad- 
emoiselle. Now  some  people  would  have  encouraged 
Laura  May  too  much,  and  wouldn't  have  understood  how 
sad  the  whole  thing  was,  and  that  would  have  spoiled 
everything." 

The  breathless  Amelia  came  of  necessity  to  a  full  stop, 
and  Belinda  went  on  her  way  to  her  room  with  a  queer 
little  smile  hovering  around  her  lips. 

Not  only  the  emotional  contingent  of  the  school,  but 


66  CONCERNING  BELINDA 

the  sensible  girls  as  well,  appeared  to  come  under  the 
siren's  spell. 

"  She's  awfully  clever  and  amusing,  Miss  Carewe," 
said  Katherine  Holland,  Belinda's  staunch  and  faithful 
satellite.  "  Of  course  I'm  not  dotty  over  her  like  Amelia's 
crowd,  but  she  really  is  great  fun,  and  I  like  being  with 
her  when  those  girls  aren't  around.  She  does  talk  such 
sentimental  trash  to  them." 

"  If  you  want  to  criticise  any  of  the  teachers  you  may 
find  another  room  and  another  listener,  my  dear." 
Belinda's  dignified  reproof  was  most  impressive  and 
Katherine  subsided,  with  a  murmured,  "  Oh,  but  I  do  like 
her,  you  know." 

As  the  weeks  passed  by  the  general  enthusiasm  gradu- 
ally crystallised  into  particular  adoration. 

Mademoiselle  was  still  universally  popular,  but  with  a 
certain  clique  she  was  a  mania.  All  of  the  moneyed  pu- 
pils belonged  to  this  set,  and  their  devotion  was  such  that 
they  were  one  and  all  unwilling  to  go  for  an  outing  save 
under  convoy  of  the  French  chaperon.  Even  Evangeline 
Marie  Jenkins  was  stirred  to  her  depths  by  Mademoiselle's 
charm  and,  rising  above  the  handicap  of  avoirdupois  and 
temperament,  became  almost  energetic  in  her  shopping 
and  theatre-going,  in  order  to  enjoy  the  privilege  of  the 
charmer's  society. 

At  first  Miss  Lucilla  Ryder  was  inclined  to  interfere 


A    WOLF   IN    THE   FOLD  67 

in  the  interest  of  humanity,  and  save  Mademoiselle  de 
Courcelles  from  being  imposed  upon;  but  the  little 
Frenchwoman  met  the  kindly  interference  with  good- 
natured  protest. 

"  Ah,  Miss  Ryder,  you  are  so  good,  so  thoughtful,"  she 
said  in  her  delicious  French.  "  You  have  the  kind  heart ; 
but  I  must  earn  my  salary,  and  if  it  is  in  this  way  that 
I  am  most  useful  to  you,  let  me  show  my  goodwill,  my 
devotion  to  your  school,  by  going  where  the  young  ladies 
will.  They  amuse  me — those  dear  children.  I  love  being 
with  them,  and  I  am  strong  and  well.  I  do  not  tire. 

"  But  there  is  one  thing,  chere  Mademoiselle  Ryder. 
I  know  that  the  other  teachers — my  associates — dislike 
the  shopping.  They  object  to  chaperoning  the  young  la- 
dies upon  the  little  expeditions  to  the  shops.  Me,  I  do  not 
mind.  I  am  glad  to  go  if  it  will  save  the  others  from  a 
duty  that  is  disagreeable.  It  has  come  to  me  that  perhaps 
the  theatre  is  more  popular  than  the  shopping,  that  it 
may  give  pleasure  to  chaperon  to  the  theatre,  the  opera, 
the  concert.  That  is  so,  is  it  not  ?  " 

Miss  Ryder  admitted  that  there  might  be  reason  in  the 
theory. 

Mademoiselle  smiled,  a  sweet,  swift  smile. 
"  Ah,  it  is  so.    Then  you  will  do  me  a  favour?    Yes?    It 
would  be  better  that   for  the   theatre   other  chaperons 
should  be  chosen.    Me,  I  will  take  for  myself  all  the  shop- 


68  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

ping.  It  will  give  me  pleasure  to  have  it  so.  I  will  feel 
that  it  is  for  the  happiness  of  my  fellow-teachers,  and  that 
will  give  me  happiness.  You  will  arrange  it  so,  is  it 
not?" 

Miss  Lucilla  demurred.  The  arrangement  was  unfair. 
Shopping  was  the  teachers'  bete  noire.  It  would  not  do 
to  load  all  of  the  unpleasant  duty  upon  one  pair  of  shoul- 
ders. 

Mademoiselle  refused  to  be  spared.  She  appreciated 
her  superior's  consideration,  but  she  was  bent  upon  being 
noble,  and  begged  for  martyrdom. 

"  After  all  it  is  not  as  if  I,  too,  disliked  the  thing.  Me, 
I  am  French.  I  love  the  shops.  Fatiguing?  Yes,  the 
young  ladies  are  slow  in  making  up  their  minds,  but  it 
is  all  one  to  me." 

In  the  end  Miss  Lucilla  yielded,  and  in  due  course  the 
announcement  was  made  in  faculty  meeting  that  Made- 
moiselle de  Courcelles  would  chaperon  all  shopping  ex- 
peditions, but  would  dp  no  evening  chaperoning.  Miss 
Lucilla  accompanied  the  announcement  by  a  few  remarks 
concerning  the  cheerful  spirit  in  which  Mademoiselle  de 
Courcelles  accepted  the  undesirable  duty.  Mademoiselle 
looked  modestly  deprecatory.  The  teachers  were  sur- 
prised and  pleased.  Only  Miss  Barnes,  unmoved,  eyed 
the  willing  martyr  with  a  coolly  speculative  glance. 

Shopping  was  always  a  vital  issue  with  a  certain  set  of 


A    WOLF  IN   THE   FOLD  69 

the  Ryder  pupils.  The  girls  were  extravagant  and  amply 
provided  with  pocket-money  by  parents  foolishly  in- 
dulgent. Moreover,  shopping  commissions  from  home 
were  many ;  and,  though  one  of  the  school  rules  carefully 
embalmed  in  the  circulars  was  to  the  effect  that  no  pupil 
could  be  allowed  more  than  one  shopping  expedition  in 
any  one  week,  this  rule,  like  many  another,  was  more 
honored  in  the  breach  than  in  the  observance. 

So  Mademoiselle  de  Courcelles  found  her  hands  full 
with  her  self-elected  task,  and  not  a  day  went  by  without 
her  leading  forth  from  one  to  fifteen  girls  bent  upon 
storming  the  shops. 

As  Christmas  holidays  approached,  the  shopping  fever 
waxed  more  violent,  and  there  was  no  afternoon  of  rest 
for  the  shopping  chaperon.  Not  only  had  each  of  the 
girls  a  long  Christmas  list  of  purchases  she  must  make 
for  herself,  but  the  lists  of  commissions  from  home  grew 
and  multiplied. 

Through  all  the  strain  and  stress  Mademoiselle  de 
Courcelles  maintained  her  cheerful  serenity.  Her  amia- 
bility never  wavered,  her  gay  volatility  never  flagged. 
The  girls  chorused  her  praises.  She  was  the  most  help- 
ful of  advisers,  the  most  wise  of  shoppers,  the  most  un- 
wearying of  chaperons. 

Sometimes  she  came  home  to  dinner  with  dark  circles 
under  her  eyes  and  lines  of  fatigue  about  her  mouth,  but 


70  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

her  spirits  were  always  intact,  and  even  Miss  Barnes  ad- 
mitted that  the  Frenchwoman  was  good-natured  and  that 
her  amiable  self-sacrifice  had  been  a  boon  to  the  rest  of 
the  resident  teachers. 

During  the  last  week  of  the  term  several  annoying  in- 
cidents disturbed  the  serenity  of  the  Misses  Ryder,  and 
caused  more  or  less  excitement  among  the  girls.  First 
and  most  distressing  was  the  loss  of  Laura  May  Lee's 
pocket-book.  Under  ordinary  circumstances  this  would 
not  have  been  a  calamity,  for  Laura  May's  pocket-money 
melted  away  as  if  by  magic,  and  her  pocket-book  was 
chronically  flat.  But,  as  it  happened,  Mr.  Lee,  a  wealthy 
Southern  widower,  had  been  confiding  enough  to  send 
Laura  May  a  check  for  $500,  and  commission  her  to 
select  two  rings  as  Christmas  presents  for  herself  and 
her  younger  sister.  The  rings  were  chosen  after  several 
expeditions  to  famous  jewellery  shops,  and  at  last  one 
afternoon  Laura  May  and  a  group  of  chosen  friends, 
chaperoned  by  Mademoiselle  de  Courcelles,  set  forth  to 
bring  home  the  spoils. 

Miss  Ryder  had  cashed  the  check,  the  $500  in  cash  re- 
posed snugly  in  Laura  May's  purse;  but  when,  at  the 
jeweller's,  Laura  May  opened  her  shopping-bag,  lo!  the 
purse  had  vanished  and  the  $500  with  it — gone,  evidently, 
to  swell  some  pickpocket's  holiday  harvest. 

Only  a  few  days  later  Mademoiselle  de  Courcelles,  in 


A    WOLF   IN    THE   FOLD  71 

an  interview  behind  closed  doors,  reported  to  Miss  Ryder 
that  a  small  sum  of  money  had  been  stolen  from  her 
trunk,  and  that  circumstantial  evidence  pointed  to  Ellen, 
one  of  the  chamber-maids,  as  the  thief.  Mademoiselle  ex- 
plained that  she  did  not  mind  the  personal  loss,  but  as 
the  pupils  had  been  complaining  of  the  disappearance  of 
money,  jewellery,  silver  toilet  articles,  etc.,  she  felt  it  her 
duty  to  report  her  suspicions. 

Miss  Lucilla  promptly  ordered  Ellen's  trunks  and 
bureau  drawers  searched  and,  a  gold  hatpin  belonging  to 
Evangeline  Marie  Jenkins  having  materialized  in  one  of 
the  bureau  drawers,  Ellen,  weeping  and  to  the  last  pro- 
testing her  innocence,  was  summarily  turned  out  of  the 
house. 

After  this  excitement,  school  life  flowed  on  smoothly 
until  the  last  Saturday  before  the  holiday  vacation. 

"  The  whole  school's  going  shopping  to-day,"  Amelia 
Bowers  announced  at  the  breakfast  table  on  this  particu- 
lar Saturday  morning.  "  Everybody's  got  a  Christmas 
list  a  mile  long,  and  it's  going  to  be  something  awful. 
The  stores  will  be  simply  jammed  and  it'll  take  an  hour 
to  buy  a  paper  of  pins." 

Miss  Lucilla  Ryder  smiled  tolerantly  and  omitted  her 
usual  criticism  of  Amelia's  extravagant  speech. 

"  You  will  need  assistance  to-day,  Mademoiselle  de 
Courcelles.  I  will  send  some  of  the  young  ladies  out  with 
other  teachers." 


72  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

She  did ;  but  Mademoiselle's  ardent  admirers  were 
faithful,  and  she  started  out  at  half-past  nine  in  charge 
of  twelve  of  the  richest  girls  in  the  school. 

From  shop  to  shop  the  flock  fluttered,  chattering,  gig- 
gling, elbowing  their  way  through  the  crowds,  buying 
many  things,  inspecting  more,  meeting  smiles  and  good 
nature  on  every  hand.  There's  something  about  the  effer- 
vescent exuberance  of  a  boarding-school  crowd  that  thaws 
even  the  icy  hauteur  of  the  average  saleswoman,  and  stirs 
any  salesman  to  spectacular  affability. 

It  was  after  a  hasty  and  simple  luncheon,  beginning 
with  lobster  salad  and  ending  with  tutti-frutti  ice  cream 
and  chocolate  eclairs,  that  the  Ryder  expedition  drifted 
into  a  well-known  jewellery  shop. 

Belinda,  helping  Katherine  Holland  to  choose  a  stick- 
pin for  her  brother,  saw  the  familiar  faces  and  idly 
watched  the  girls  as  they  bore  down  upon  a  counter 
where  a  bland  salesman  greeted  them  with  welcoming 
smiles.  She  knew  that  Laura  May  was  once  more  in 
quest  of  rings — her  long-suffering  father  having  duti- 
fully forwarded  a  second  cheque  when  told,  in  a  tear- 
blotted  letter,  of  the  fate  that  had  met  the  first  gift — and 
she  smiled  when  Laura  May  triumphantly  fished  a 
chamois-skin  bag  out  of  her  blouse  front  and  extracted  a 
roll  of  bills  which  she  clutched  firmly  in  her  hand,  while 
her  glance,  roaming  suspiciously  over  the  surrounding 
crowd,  glared  defiance  at  all  pickpockets. 


A    WOLF   IN    THE   FOLD  73 

Suddenly  Belinda's  smile  faded.  Her  eyes  opened  wide 
in  amazement. 

She  had  seen  a  swift,  deft  movement  of  Mademoiselle's 
hand — but  no,  it  was  impossible.  She  had  imagined  it. 
Yet  she  stood  staring  in  a  bewildered  fashion  at  the 
Frenchwoman  until  Katherine  touched  her  arm. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Miss  Carewe  ?    I'm  ready  to  go." 

Belinda  smiled  vaguely,  and  moved  toward  the  door  in 
the  wake  of  Mademoiselle  and  her  charges,  who  were 
also  leaving.  She  lost  sight  of  them  in  the  crowd ;  but,  as 
she  neared  the  door,  there  was  a  sudden  swirling  eddy  in 
the  incoming  and  outgoing  tides.  Something  was  hap- 
pening outside.  The  sound  of  excited  girlish  voices 
floated  into  the  shop.  A  crowd  was  forming  on  the  side- 
walk. 

Belinda's  cheeks  flamed  scarlet.  A  look  of  startled 
comprehension  gleamed  in  her  eyes. 

"  Hurry,"  she  urged  curtly ;  and,  with  her  hand  on 
Katherine's  arm,  forged  ahead  through  the  door,  un- 
ceremoniously pushing  aside  everyone  who  interfered 
with  her  rapid  exit. 

Once  outside,  she  turned  unhesitatingly  toward  a  group 
blocking  the  sidewalk.  A  policeman's  helmet  loomed 
large  above  the  heads  of  the  crowd;  and,  as  Belinda  ap- 
proached, the  policeman's  sturdy  form  forced  a  way 
through  the  circle.  Following  came  Mademoiselle  de 


74  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

Courcelles  escorted  by  two  men  whose  faces  wore  smiles 
of  quiet  satisfaction.  Behind  was  a  bewildered,  hysteri- 
cal group  of  girls,  weeping,  lamenting,  protesting,  en- 
treating. 

Belinda  stopped  the  procession. 

"  There  must  be  some  mistake,"  she  said  falteringly. 
"What  is  wrong?" 

One  of  the  keen-eyed  men  took  off  his  hat  respectfully. 

"  Sorry,  Miss ;  but  it's  French  Liz,  all  right.  We  got 
the  tip  from  Paris  that  she  was  working  New  York  again, 
but  we  couldn't  spot  her  till  to-day." 

"  B-b-but  what  has  she  done  ?  "  stammered  Belinda,  to 
whom  twelve  anguish-stricken  girls  were  attempting  to 
cling,  while  a  mixed  audience  looked  on  appreciatively. 

"  Cleverest  shop-lifter  in  the  graft,"  explained  the  de- 
tective. "  She's  got  plenty  of  the  goods  on  her  right 
now ;  but  I  say  " — and  his  glance  wandered  to  the  girls — 
"  who'd  a-thought  of  this  lay  except  Liz  ?  She's  a  bird, 
she  is!" 

He  turned  to  Mademoiselle  de  Courcelles  with  honest 
admiration  in  his  eyes,  and  she  smiled  at  him  recklessly, 
with  white  lips. 

"  You'd  have  been  too  late  to-morrow.  I  was  expecting 
a  telegram  calling  me  away  to-night." 

All  the  hesitation  was  gone  from  her  English.  She 
spoke  fluently,  and  a  hard  metallic  ring  had  crept  into  the 
velvety  voice. 


A    WOLF   IN   THE   FOLD  75 

The  detective  looked  at  Belinda. 

"  This  other  fellow  is  the  shop-detective.  We'll  have 
to  take  her  in  here  and  see  what  swag  she  has  beside  the 
diamonds  we  saw  her  lift.  I  don't  know  as  there's  any 
use  keeping  the  young  ladies " 

Evangeline  Marie  gave  a  smothered  wail  at  the  sug- 
gestion, and  Laura  May  showed  signs  of  fainting  in 
Belinda's  arms. 

"  Boarding-school  crowd,  I  see.  Now,  Miss,  if  you'll 
just  give  me  the  name  of  the  school  and  the  address,  you 
can  take  the  bunch  along  home.  It  isn't  likely  that  any  of 
those  babes  are  in  the  game  with  Liz.  She's  just  used 
them  for  a  blind.  Holy  smoke !  but  that  was  a  good  idea. 
Turn  a  crowd  of  boarding-school  girls  loose  at  a  counter, 
and  their  teacher  could  steal  the  clerks  blind  without  their 
suspecting  her.  Lost  anything  in  the  school  ?  " 

Belinda  had  a  sudden  vision  of  the  disgraced  Ellen's 
tearful  face,  and  a  thought  of  Laura  May's  pocket-book 
smote  her,  but  she  merely  wrote  the  address  on  a  card 
and  handed  it  to  the  detective. 

"  If  you  could  keep  the  name  of  the  school  out  of  the 
scandal  it  would  be  worth  your  while,"  she  said  in  a  low 
voice. 

The  detective  nodded. 

"  I'll  try;  but  I  guess  the  papers  will  get  it  one  way  or 
another.  Don't  let  anyone  touch  Liz's  trunks.  I'll  be  up 
to  go  through  them  just  as  soon  as  I've  finished  here." 


76  CONCERNING    BELINDA 

For  the  first  time,  Mademoiselle  faced  Belinda  and  the 
wide-eyed  girls. 

"  Ces  chcres  demoiselles!  Cette  superbe  Mees 
Ryder !  Bah !  It  was  too  easy.  I  mention  a  duchess,  a 
countess.  The  lofty  Mees  Ryder  falls  upon  my  neck.  I 
tell  stories  of  the  French  noblemen  who  have  adored  me, 
persecuted  me  with  their  devotion  until  I  fled  from 
France;  poor  but  honest.  The  little  schoolgirls  gulp  it 
all  down  and  beg  for  more.  Oh,  but  they  are  stupid — 
these  respectable  people.  You  have  my  smpathy,  Mad- 
emoiselle Carewe.  You  must  live  among  them.  For  me 
— give  me  les  gens  d' esprit,  give  me  a  society  interesting. 
Adieu,  mes  chcres.  It  was  amusing,  that  boarding-school 
experience,  but  to  endure  it  long — mon  dieu,  I  prefer  even 
this!" 

She  waved  her  hand  airily  toward  the  policeman  and 
the  grinning  detectives,  and,  with  a  shrug,  moved  toward 
the  shop  door,  then  paused  for  a  parting  message. 

"  My  regards  to  the  venerable  spinsters.  It  pains  me 
that  I  shall  never  be  able  to  arrange  for  them  a  meeting 
with  the  Duchesse  de  Rochechouart  and  Madame  la  Com- 
tesse  de  Pourtales.  The  maid  of  the  duchess  collected 
stationery  for  me  at  one  time.  It  is  often  of  use,  the  sta- 
tionery that  carries  a  good  crest.  Adieu !  " 

Belinda  convoyed  a  subdued  group  of  girls  back  to  the 
school ;  but,  by  the  time  they  reached  the  door,  their  spirits 


A    WOLF   IN    THE   FOLD  77 

had  soared.  It  is  sad  to  be  disillusioned,  but  after  all  it  is 
something  to  have  been  intimately  associated  with  a  fa- 
mous criminal,  and  to  have  been  an  eye-witness  of  her 
capture. 

Only  Laura  May  Lee  mourned  and  refused  to  be  com- 
forted. 

"  I  will  never  again  open  my  soul  to  anyone,"  she  vowed 
hysterically. 

"  I  said  the  woman  was  a  cat,"  commented  Miss  Barnes 
when  the  news  reached  her  ears. 

What  Miss  Lucilla  Ryder  said  in  the  first  fervor  of  her 
surprise  no  one  save  Belinda  knew,  for  their  interview 
was  behind  closed  doors,  but  when  she  came  from  her 
room  to  meet  the  detective  Miss  Lucilla's  calm  dignity 
was  without  a  ripple. 

The  investigation  of  teachers'  credentials  is  now  her 
pet  hobby,  and  she  freezes  at  the  mention  of  the  French 
nobility. 


THE    BLACK    SHEEP'S   CHRISTMAS 


CHAPTER   V 

THE   BLACK    SHEEP'S   CHRISTMAS 

FIVE  days  before  Christmas  the  school  of  the  Misses 
Ryder  emptied  its  pupils  and  teachers  into  the 
bosoms  of  more  or  less  gratified  families,  and 
closed  its  doors  for  the  holiday  season. 

The  principals  lingered  for  two  days  after  the  girls  left, 
in  order  to  see  that  the  furniture  was  covered,  the  furnace 
fires  were  allowed  to  die,  the  gas  was  turned  off,  the 
shades  were  decorously  drawn,  the  regular  butcher's, 
baker's  and  milkman's  supplies  were  stopped.  Then  they, 
too,  went  out  into  the  world,  for  they  always  spent  Christ- 
mas with  the  old  aunt  who  lived  upon  the  ancestral  Ryder 
acres  in  New  Hampshire. 

Five  of  the  servants  had  joined  the  exodus.  Only 
Ellen,  the  fat  cook,  and  Rosie,  the  laundress,  were  left  in 
the  basement,  and  in  the  back  hall  bedroom  on  the  top 
floor  was  the  Youngest  Teacher,  who  had  submitted  to 
enthusiastic  kisses  from  her  departing  girl  adorers,  had 
responded  cheerfully  to  pleasant  adieus  from  her  employ- 
ers, and  had  settled  down  to  face  a  somewhat  depressing 


82  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

situation.  On  Christmas  Eve  she  was  still  facing  it 
pluckily. 

A  storm  of  wind  and  sleet  was  beating  at  the  windows, 
and  the  little  hall  bedroom,  unheated  for  days  past,  had 
taken  on  the  chill  that  seems  to  have  body  and  substance. 

In  a  wicker  chair,  beside  the  small  table,  Belinda, 
wrapped  in  blankets  and  with  a  hot-water  bag  under  her 
feet,  sat  reading  by  the  light  of  a  kerosene  lamp  which 
threw  weird,  flickering  shadows  on  the  ugly  gray  walls. 

As  a  particular  vicious  blast  shrieked  at  the  window 
the  girl  dropped  htr  book  into  her  lap,  drew  the  blankets 
more  closely  about  her,  looked  around  the  room,  and  made 
a  heroic  effort  to  smile. 

Then  she  smiled  spontaneously  at  the  lamentable  failure 
of  the  attempt,  but  the  smile  left  the  corners  of  her  mouth 
drooping. 

She  was  tired  of  being  brave. 

Somewhere  out  across  the  night  there  were  love  and 
laughter  and  friends.  She  wondered  what  the  home  folk 
were  doing.  Probably  they  missed  her,  but  they  were  to- 
gether and  they  had  no  idea  how  things  were  with  her, 
for  her  letters  had  been  framed  to  suggest  festive  plans 
and  a  school  full  of  holiday  sojourners. 

She  had  written  those  letters  with  one  eye  upon  the 
Recording  Angel  and  the  other  upon  her  mother's  loving, 
anxious  face,  and  it  had  seemed  to  her  that  the  Recording 
Angel's  smile  promised  absolution. 


THE  BLACK   SHEEP'S  CHRISTMAS       83 

She  was  glad  she  hadn't  been  frank,  but — she  wanted 
her  mother. 

The  quivering  face  was  buried  in  the  rough  folds  of  the 
blankets,  and  a  queer,  stifled  sound  mingled  with  the 
noise  of  the  storm. 

The  Youngest  Teacher  was  only  twenty-two,  and  this 
was  her  first  Christmas  away  from  home. 

But  the  surrender  did  not  last  long.  Belinda  sprang  to 
her  feet,  hurled  a  remark  that  sounded  like  "  maudlin 
idiot  "  at  a  dishevelled  vision  in  the  mirror,  picked  up  the 
lamp,  and  went  down  to  the  gymnasium  on  the  second 
floor.  When  she  came  back  she  was  too  warm  to  notice 
the  chill  of  the  room,  too  tired  to  think.  She  pulled 
down  the  folding  bed,  tumbled  into  it,  and  dreamed  of 
home. 

Christmas  morning  was  clear  and  cold. 

Belinda  awoke  late,  and,  as  the  realities  crowded  in 
upon  her,  shut  her  eyes  and  tried  to  dodge  the  fact  that 
there  was  no  one  to  wish  her  a  merry  Christmas. 

She  was  crying  softly  into  her  pillow  when  the  room 
door  was  opened  cautiously  and  two  ruddy  Irish  faces 
peered  through  the  crack. 

"  A  merry  Christmas  to  ye,  Miss !  "  shouted  two  voices 
rich  in  creamy  brogue. 

Belinda  opened  her  eyes. 

"  Sure,  Oi  said  to  Rosie,  '  It's  a  shame,'  sez  Oi,  '  the 


84  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

young  leddy  up  there  wid  divil  a  wan  to  wish  her  luck. 
Let's  go  up/  sez  Oi.  So  we  come." 

Then  Ellen,  who  was  an  excellent  cook  and  a  tough  citi- 
zen, had  the  surprise  of  her  life,  for  a  slim,  pretty  girl 
sprang  out  of  bed,  threw  her  arms  around  the  cook's 
portly  form,  and  kissed  the  broad,  red  face.  Rosie  had 
her  turn  while  Ellen  was  staggering  under  the  shock. 

"  Bless  you  both,"  said  Belinda,  looking  at  them 
through  wet  eyes. 

The  cook  opened  and  shut  her  mouth  feebly,  but  her 
own  eyes  held  a  responsive  moisture. 

"  Aarrah,  now,  was  it  ez  bad  ez  that  ?  "  she  asked  with 
rough  gentleness. 

"  We  were  thinkin'  maybe  we'd  be  so  bold  as  to  ask 
wud  ye  come  down  to  the  kitchen  and  have  a  drop  av  cof- 
fee and  a  bit  av  toast  wid  us.  It's  bitter  cold  the  mornin' 
to  be  goin'  out  to  an  eatin'-house,  and  there's  a  grand 
foire  in  the  stove." 

The  invitation  was  accepted,  and  the  guest  stayed  in  the 
warm  kitchen  until  Rosie's  young  man  materialised.  Then 
Belinda  retreated  to  her  own  room,  made  her  bed,  tucked 
herself  up  snugly  in  the  big  chair,  and  once  more  turned 
to  the  consolations  of  literature. 

She  was  still  grimly  reading  when,  at  eleven  o'clock, 
Ellen  tapped  on  the  door. 

"  If  ye  plaze,  Miss,  there's  a  man  wud  loike  to  be 
spakin'  wid  yez." 


THE  BLACK   SHEEP'S   CHRISTMAS       85 

Belinda  looked  blankly  incredulous.  Then  a  gleam  of 
hope  flashed  across  her  face.  By  a  miracle,  Jack's  boat 
might  have  come  back — or  somebody  from  home 

"  Yis ;  he  sez  his  name's  Ryder." 

"  Ryder?  "  echoed  Belinda. 

"  He  wuz  afther  askin'  fer  Miss  Ryder  and  Miss  Emmi- 
line  furrst,  and  he  luked  queer  loike  when  I  told  him  they 
wuz  gone  away. 

"  '  Who's  here,  onyway,'  sez  he,  sort  o'  grinnin'  as  if  it 
hurt  him. 

"  '  There's  Miss  Carewe,'  sez  Oi, '  wan  av  th'  tachers.' 

" '  Ask  her  will  she  see  me  fer  a  minute/  sez  He ;  an' 
wid  that  I  come  fer  yez." 

"What's  he  like,  Ellen?" 

"  Well,  he's  bigger  than  most  and  kind  av  gruff  spoken, 
as  though  he'd  as  lave  hit  ye  if  he  didn't  loike  yer  answers ; 
but  it's  nice  eyes  and  good  clothes  he  has.  He's  a  foine 
figger  av  a  man,  and  he  do  be  remindin'  me  some  way  av 
Miss  Ryder.  I  doubt  he's  a  relation." 

Belinda  was  straightening  her  hair  and  putting  Cologne 
on  her  swollen  eyelids. 

"  I'll  have  to  go  down.    Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  In  the  back  parlour,  Miss." 

"  Did  you  raise  the  shades  ?  " 

"Divil  a  bit.  It's  ez  cheerful  ez  a  buryin'  vault  in 
there." 


86  CONCERNING  BELINDA 

It  was.  John  Ryder  had  grasped  that  fact  as  he  sat 
waiting,  upon  one  of  the  shrouded  chairs.  He  turned  up 
his  coat  collar  with  a  shiver. 

"  Lord,  how  natural  it  seems,"  he  muttered.  "  They 
did  the  same  sort  of  thing  at  home.  Give  me  the  ranch." 

The  portiere  before  the  hall  door  was  pushed  aside  and 
the  man  rose.  He  was  prepared  for  a  gaunt,  forbidding, 
elderly  spinster.  He  saw  a  girl  in  a  dark  blue  frock  that 
clung  to  the  curves  of  the  slender  figure  as  though  it  loved 
them.  He  saw  a  waving  mass  of  sunny  brown  hair  that 
rippled  into  high  lights  even  in  the  darkened  room  and 
framed  a  piquant  face  whose  woeful  brown  eyes  were 
shadow-circled. 

"  Merry  Christmas !  "  he  said  abruptly. 

"  Merry  Christmas !  "  Belinda  replied  before  she  real- 
ised the  absurdity  of  it. 

"  You  don't  look  it,"  commented  John  Ryder  frankly. 

Belinda  crossed  the  room,  threw  up  the  shades,  and 
turned  to  look  at  the  amazing  visitor,  who  stood  the  scru- 
tiny with  imperturbable  calm. 

"  I  am  Miss  Carewe.    You  wish  to  see  me  ?  " 

The  tone  was  frigid,  but  its  temperature  had  no  appar- 
ent effect. 

"Yes.  I'm  John  Ryder,"  the  man  announced  tran- 
quilly; then,  seeing  that  she  didn't  look  enlightened,  he 
added,  "  I'm  Miss  Ryder's  brother,  you  know." 


THE  BLACK  SHEEP'S  CHRISTMAS   87 

Belinda  thawed. 

"  Why,  I  didn't  know "  she  began,  then  stopped 

awkwardly. 

"Didn't  know  the  girls  had  a  brother.  No;  I  fancy 
they  haven't  talked  about  me  much.  You  see,  I'm  the 
'  black  sheep.' " 

The  statement  was  brusque,  but  the  smile  was  disarm- 
ing. 

"  I've  been  thoroughly  bleached,  Miss  Carewe.  Don't 
turn  me  out." 

She  had  no  intention  of  turning  him  out.  His  voice 
had  an  honest  note,  his  eyes  were  very  kind,  and  she 
lacked  supreme  confidence  in  her  employers'  sense  of 
values;  so  she  sat  down  upon  an  imposing  chair  swathed 
in  brown  Holland  and  looked  at  the  "  Black  Sheep." 

"  What  have  they  been  doing  to  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I'm  homesick."  She  essayed  gay  self-derision,  but 
her  lips  trembled,  and  to  John  Ryder's  surprise  he  found 
his  blood  boiling,  despite  the  icy  temperature  of  the  room. 

"  Did  they  leave  you  here  all  alone?  " 

"  Nobody  left  me.    I  stayed." 

Belinda  was  conscious  that  the  conversation  had  taken 
an  amazing  leap  into  intimacy,  and  clutched  at  her  dignity, 
but  she  felt  bewildered.  There  was  something  overpower- 
ing and  masterful  about  this  big,  boyish  man. 

"Nobody  else  here?" 


88  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  Servants." 

"  House  shut  up  like  this?  " 

"  Naturally." 

"No  heat?" 

"  I  can't  see  that  the  matter  concerns  you,  Mr.  Ryder — 
unless " 

"  Oh,  no.    I'm  not  thinking  of  staying." 

Her  attempt  at  rebuff  had  not  the  smallest  effect. 

"  No  gas,  either,  I  suppose  ?  " 

She  didn't  answer. 

He  said  something  under  his  breath  that  appeared  to 
afford  him  relief. 

"  No  friends  in  town,  evidently  ?  " 

Belinda  rose  with  fine  stateliness. 

"  If  there's  nothing  I  can  do  for  you,  Mr.  Ryder " 

"Sit  down." 

She  sat  down  involuntarily,  and  then  felt  egregiously 
foolish  because  she  had  done  it;  but  John  Ryder  was 
leaning  forward  with  his  honest  eyes  holding  hers  and 
was  talking  earnestly. 

"  Please  don't  be  angry.  I've  been  out  in  the  Australian 
bush  so  long  that  I've  forgotten  my  parlour  tricks.  Men 
say  what  they  think,  and  ask  for  what  they  want,  and  do 
pretty  well  as  they  please — or  can— out  there.  I've  hardly 
seen  a  woman.  I  suppose  they'd  cut  down  the  indepen- 
dence if  they  entered  into  the  game.  But,  see  here,  Miss 


THE   BLACK   SHEEP'S   CHRISTMAS        89 

Carewe,  you're  homesick.  I'm  homesick,  too — and  I'm 
worse  off  than  you,  for  I'm  homesick  at  home.  It's  rather 
dreadful  being  homesick  at  home." 

There  was  a  note,  half  bitter,  half  regretful,  in  the 
voice  and  a  look  in  the  eyes  that  was  an  appeal  to  gener- 
osity. 

Belinda's  conventionality  crumpled  up  and  her  heart 
warmed  toward  the  fellow-waif. 

"  I've  been  counting  a  good  deal  upon  a  home  Christ- 
mas," he  went  on ;  "  more  than  I  realised ;  and  this  isn't 
exactly  the  real  thing." 

Belinda  nodded  comprehension. 

The  "  Black  Sheep  "  read  the  sympathy  in  her  eyes. 

"  It's  good  of  you  to  listen.  You  see,  I've  been  away 
twenty  years.  It's  a  long  time." 

He  sat  silent  for  a  moment  staring  straight  before  him, 
but  seeing  something  that  she  could  not  see.  Then  he 
came  back  to  her. 

Yes ;  it's  a  long  time.  One  imagines  the  things  one  has 
left  stand  still,  but  they  don't.  I  thought  I'd  find  every- 
thing pretty  much  the  same.  Of  course  I  might  have 
known  better,  but — well,  a  fellow's  memory  and  imagina- 
tion play  tricks  upon  his  intelligence  sometimes.  I  liked 
New  York,  you  know.  It's  the  only  place,  but  I  made 
the  mistake  of  thinking  I  could  fill  it,  and  it  was  bigger 
than  I  had  supposed.  I  swelled  as  much  as  I  could,  but 


9o  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

I  finally  burst,  like  the  ambitious  frog  in  the  fable.  I'd 
made  a  good  many  different  kinds  of  a  fool  of  myself, 
Miss  Carewe." 

He  hesitated,  but  her  eyes  encouraged  him. 

"  I'd  made  an  awful  mess  of  things,  and  the  family 
were  down  on  me — right  they  were,  too.  The  girls  were 
pretty  bitter.  It  was  hard  on  them,  you  see,  and  I  de- 
served all  I  got.  Emmy  would  have  forgiven  me,  but 
Lou  was  just  rather  than  merciful.  You  know  justice  is 
Lou's  long  suit.  Well,  I  cut  away  to  Australia,  and  I 
didn't  write — first  because  I  hadn't  anything  good  to  tell, 
and  then  because  I  didn't  believe  anybody'd  care  to  hear, 
and  finally  because  it  had  got  to  be  habit.  It'd  a'  been 
different  if  mother  had  been  alive.  Probably  I'd  never 
have  run — or  if  I  had  run  I'd  have  written,  but  sisters — 
sisters  are  different.  Mothers  are " 

His  voice  stuck  fast  with  a  queer  quaver,  and  Belinda 
nodded  again.  She  knew  that  mothers  were 

He  found  his  voice. 

"  I  struck  it  rich  after  a  while  and  I  was  too  busy 
making  money  to  think  much;  but  by-and-by,  after  the 
pile  was  pretty  big,  I  got  to  thinking  of  ways  of  spending 
it,  and  then  old  New  York  began  bobbing  into  my  world 
again,  and  I  thought  about  the  girls  and  the  things  I 
could  do  to  make  up,  and  about  the  good  times  I  could 
give  some  of  the  old  crowd  who  had  stood  by  me  when  I 


THE   BLACK   SHEEP'S   CHRISTMAS        91 

was  good  for  nothing  and  didn't  deserve  a  friend.  And 
then  I  began  planning  and  planning — but  I  didn't  write. 
I  used  to  go  to  sleep  planning  how  I'd  drop  back  into 
this  little  village  and  what  I'd  do  to  it.  Finally  I  decided 
to  get  here  for  Christmas.  The  schoolgirls  would  be 
away  then  and  I  would  walk  in  here  and  pick  Emmy  and 
Lou  up,  and  give  them  the  time  of  their  lives  during  the 
holidays.  All  the  way  across  the  Pacific  and  the  continent 
I  was  planning  the  surprise.  I've  got  two  ten-thousand- 
dollar  checks  made  out  to  the  girls  here  in  my  pocket, 
and  I've  got  a  list  a  mile  long  of  other  Christmas  presents 
I  was  going  to  get  for  them.  I  even  had  the  Christmas 
dinner  menu  fixed — and  here  I  am." 

He  looked  uncommonly  like  a  disappointed  child. 
Belinda  found  herself  desperately  sorry  and  figuratively 
feeling  in  her  pocket  for  sugar-plums. 

"  Your  friends "  she  began. 

He  interrupted. 

"  I  tried  to  hunt  up  five  of  the  old  crowd,  over  the 
'phone.  Two  are  dead.  One's  in  Europe.  One's  living 
in  San  Francisco.  The  other  didn't  remember  my  name 
until  I  explained,  and  then  he  hoped  he'd  see  me  while  I 
was  in  town.  It's  going  to  be  a  lively  Christmas." 

Suddenly  he  jumped  up  and  walked  to  the  window, 
then  came  back  and  stood  looking  down  at  the  Youngest 
Teacher. 


92  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  Miss  Carewe,  we  are  both  Christmas  outcasts.  Why 
can't  we  make  the  best  of  it  together?  " 

Belinda  flushed  and  sat  up  very  straight,  but  he  went 
on  rapidly : 

"  What's  the  use  of  your  moping  here  alone  and  my 
wandering  around  the  big  empty  town  alone  ?  Why  can't 
we  spend  the  day  together  ?  You'll  dine  with  me  and  go 
to  a  matinee,  and  we'll  have  an  early  supper  somewhere, 
and  then  I'll  bring  you  home  and  go  away.  We  can 
cheer  each  other  up." 

"  But  it's  so " 

"  Yes,  I  know  it's  unconventional,  but  there's  no  harm 
in  it — not  a  bit.  You  know  my  sisters,  and  nobody  knows 
me  here — and  anyway,  as  I  told  you,  I'm  bleached.  Word 
of  honor,  Miss  Carewe,  I'm  a  decent  sort  as  men  go — 
and  I'm  old  enough  to  be  your  father.  It  would  be  aw- 
fully kind  in  you.  A  man  has  no  right  to  be  sentimental, 
but  I'm  blue.  The  heart's  dropped  out  of  my  world.  I'm 
not  a  drinker  nowadays,  but  if  I  hadn't  found  you  here 
I'm  afraid  I'd  have  gone  out  and  played  the  fool  by  get- 
ting royally  drunk.  Babies  we  are,  most  of  us.  Please 
come.  It  will  make  a  lot  of  difference  to  me,  and  it  would 
be  more  cheerful  for  you  than  this  sort  of  thing.  Come ! 
Do,  won't  you  ?  " 

And  Belinda,  doubting,  wondering,  hesitating,  longing 
for  good  cheer  and  human  friendliness,  turned  her  back 
upon  Dame  Grundy  and  said  yes. 


THE  BLACK  SHEEP'S  CHRISTMAS        93 

Half  an  hour  later  a  gay,  dimpling  girl,  arrayed  in  holi- 
day finery,  and  a  stalwart,  handsome  man  with  iron-gray 
hair  but  an  oddly  boyish  face,  were  whirling  down  Fifth 
Avenue,  in  a  hansom,  toward  New  York's  most  famous 
restaurant.  The  man  stopped  the  cab  in  front  of  a  florist's 
shop,  disappeared  for  a  moment,  and  came  out  carrying 
a  bunch  of  violets  so  huge  that  the  two  little  daintily 
gloved  hands  into  which  he  gave  the  flowers  could  hardly 
hold  them. 

The  restaurant  table,  reserved  by  telephone  while  Belinda 
was  making  a  hasty  toilette,  was  brave  with  orchids.  An 
obsequious  head  waiter,  impressed  by  the  order  delivered 
over  the  wire,  conducted  the  couple  to  the  flower-laden 
table  and  hovered  near  them  with  stern  eyes  for  the  at- 
tendant waiters  and  propitiatory  eyes  for  the  patron  of 
magnificent  ideas. 

Even  the  invisible  chef,  spurred  by  the  demand  upon 
his  skill,  wrought  mightily  for  the  delectation  of  the 
Christmas  outcasts — and  the  outcasts  forgot  that  they 
were  homesick,  forgot  that  they  were  strangers,  and  re- 
membered only  that  life  was  good. 

John  Ryder  told  stories  of  Australian  mine  and  ranch 
to  the  girl  with  the  sparkling  eyes  and  the  eager  face: 
talked,  as  he  had  never  within  his  memory  talked  to  any- 
one, of  his  own  experiences,  ambitions,  hopes,  ideals ;  and 
Belinda,  radiant,  charming,  beamed  upon  him  across  the 
flowers  and  urged  him  on. 


94  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

Once  she  pinched  herself  softly  under  cover  of  the 
table.  Surely  it  was  too  good  to  be  true,  after  the  gloom 
of  the  morning.  It  was  a  dream:  a  violet-scented, 
French-cookery-flavoured  dream  spun  around  a  hand- 
some man  with  frank,  admiring  eyes  and  a  masterful  way. 

But  the  dream  endured. 

They  were  late  for  the  theatre,  but  that  made  little  dif- 
ference. Neither  was  alone,  forlorn,  homesick.  That 
was  all  that  really  counted. 

After  the  theatre  came  a  drive,  fresh  violets,  despite  all 
protest,  an  elaborate  supper,  which  was  only  an  excuse 
for  comradeship. 

As  the  time  slipped  by  a  shadow  crept  into  John  Ryder's 
eyes,  his  laugh  became  less  frequent.  He  stopped  telling 
stories  and  contented  himself  with  asking  occasional 
questions  and  watching  the  girl  across  the  table,  who  took 
up  the  conversation  as  he  let  it  fall  and  juggled  merrily 
with  it,  although  the  colour  crept  into  her  cheeks  as  her 
eyes  met  the  gray  eyes  that  watched  her  with  some  vague 
problem  stirring  in  their  depths. 

"  We  must  go,"  she  said  at  last. 

John  Ryder  pushed  his  coffee-cup  aside,  rose,  and 
wrapped  her  cloak  around  her,  without  a  word.  Still 
silent,  he  put  her  into  the  cab  and  took  a  seat  beside  her. 

"  I  shall  go  to-night,"  he  said  after  a  little. 

"Go?    Where?" 


THE  BLACK  SHEEP'S  CHRISTMAS       95 

Belinda's  voice  was  surprised,  regretful. 

The  man  looked  down  at  her. 

"  It's  a  good  deal  better.  I  belong  out  there.  There's 
no  place  for  me  here,  unless " 

He  stopped  and  shook  his  head  impatiently. 

"  I'd  better  go.  I'd  only  make  a  fool  of  myself  if  I 
stayed.  I'll  run  up  and  spend  a  day  with  the  girls  and 
then  I'll  hit  the  trail  for  the  ranch  again.  I'll  be  confented 
out  there — perhaps.  There's  something  here  that  gets 
into  a  man's  veins  and  makes  him  want  things  he  can't 
have." 

"  I'm  sorry,"  Belinda  murmured  vaguely.  "  It's  been 
very  nice,  hasn't  it  ?  " 

He  laid  a  large  hand  over  her  small  ones. 

"  Nice — that's  a  poor  sort  of  a  word,  little  girl." 

The  cab  stopped  before  the  school  door.  The  two 
Christmas  comrades  went  slowly  up  the  steps  and  stood 
for  a  moment  in  the  dark  doorway. 

"  You  are  surely  going  ?  " 

"Yes,  I'm  going." 

"  You've  been  very  good  to  me.  I  shall  remember  to- 
day  " 

"  And  I."  He  put  a  hand  on  each  of  her  shoulders. 
"  I'm  forty-five  and  I'm — a  fool.  You've  given  me  a 
happy  day,  little  girl,  but  some  way  or  other  I'm  more 
homesick  than  ever.  I've  had  a  vision — and  I  think  I 


96  CONCERNING  BELINDA 

shall  always  be  homesick  now.  Good-by.  God  bless 
you ! " 

Belinda  climbed  the  stairs  to  her  room  with  a  definite 
sense  of  loss  in  her  heart. 

"  Still,"  she  admitted  to  herself,  as  she  put  the  violets 
in  water,  "  he  was  forty-five." 


THE   BLIGHTED   BEING 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE   BLIGHTED   BEING 

KATHARINE  HOLLAND  was  distinctly  unpopu- 
lar during  her  first  weeks  in  the  Ryder  School. 
Miss  Lucilla  Ryder  treated  her  courteously,  but 
Miss  Lucilla's  courtesy  had  a  frappe  quality  not  conducive 
to  heart  expansion.  Miss  Emrneline  showed  even  more 
than  her  usual  gentle  propitiatory  kindliness  toward  the 
quiet,  unresponsive  girl,  but  kindliness  from  Miss  Emme- 
line  had  the  flavour  of  overtures  from  a  faded  daguerreo- 
type or  a  sweetly  smiling  porcelain  miniature.  It  was  a 
slightly  vague,  impersonal,  watery  kindliness  not  calcu- 
lated to  draw  a  shy  or  sensitive  girl  from  her  reserve. 

The  teachers,  all  save  Belinda,  voted  Katharine  difficult 
and  unimpressionable.  As  for  the  girls,  having  tried  the 
new  pupil  in  the  schoolgirl  balance,  and  having  found 
her  lamentably  wanting  in  appreciation  of  their  friendli- 
ness, they  promptly  voted  her  "  snippy,"  and  vowed  that 
she  might  mope  as  much  as  she  pleased  for  all  they  cared 
— but  that  was  before  they  knew  that  she  was  a  "  Blighted 
Being." 

The  moment  that  the  cause  of  Katharine's  entrance  info 


ioo  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

the  school  fold  and  of  her  listless  melancholy  was  revealed 
to  her  schoolfellows,  public  opinion  turned  a  double  back- 
somersault  and  the  girl  became  the  centre  of  school  inter- 
est. Her  schoolmates  watched  her  every  move,  hung  upon 
her  every  word,  humbly  accepted  any  smallest  crumbs  of 
attention  or  comradeship  she  vouchsafed  to  them.  No 
one  dared  hint  at  a  knowledge  of  her  secret,  but  in  each 
breast  was  nursed  the  hope  that  some  day  the  heroine 
of  romance  might  throw  herself  upon  that  breast  and 
confide  the  story  of  her  woes.  Meanwhile,  it  was  much  to 
lavish  unspoken  sympathy  upon  her  and  live  in  an  atmos- 
phere freighted  with  romance. 

Amelia  Bowers  was  the  lucky  mortal  who  first  learned 
the  new  girl's  story  and  had  the  rapture  of  telling  it 
under  solemn  pledge  of  secrecy  to  each  of  the  other  girls. 
Sentiment  gravitates  naturally  toward  Amelia.  She  is  all 
heart.  Possibly  it  would  be  more  accurate  to  say  she 
is  all  heart  and  imagination;  and  if  a  sentimental  confi- 
dence, tale,  or  situation  drifts  within  her  aura  it  invariably 
seeks  her  out.  Upon  this  occasion  the  second-floor  maid 
was  the  intermediary  through  which  the  romantic  tale 
flowed.  She  had  been  dusting  the  study  while  Miss  Lu- 
cilla  and  Miss  Emmeline  discussed  the  problem  of  Kath- 
arine Holland,  and  happening  to  be  close  to  the  door — 
Norah  emphasised  the  accidental  nature  of  the  location- 
she  had  overheard  the  whole  story. 


THE   BLIGHTED   BEING  101 

Norah  herself  had  loved,  early  and  often.  Her  heart 
swelled  with  sympathy,  and  she  sped  to  Amelia,  in  whom 
she  had  discovered  a  kindred  and  emotional  soul. 

Fifteen  minutes  later  Amelia,  in  one  of  her  many  wrap- 
pers, and  with  but  one  side  of  her  hair  done  up  in  kids, 
burst  in  upon  Laura  May  Lee  and  Kittie  Dayton,  who  were 
leisurely  preparing  for  bed.  Excitement  was  written  large 
upon  the  visitor's  pink  and  white  face.  She  swelled 
proudly  with  the  importance  of  a  bearer  of  great  tidings. 

"  Girls,  what  do  you  think  ?  "    She  paused  dramatically. 

The  girls  evidently  didn't  think,  but  they  sat  down 
upon  the  bed,  big-eyed  and  expectant. 

"  Cross  your  hearts,  hope  to  die  ?  " 

They  crossed  their  hearts  and  solemnly  hoped  they 
might  perish  if  they  revealed  one  word  of  what  was  com- 
ing. 

"  You  know  Katharine  Holland?  " 

They  did. 

"  Awful  stick,"  commented  Laura  May. 

Amelia  flamed  into  vivid  defence. 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort.  I  guess  you'd  be  quiet  too, 
Laura  May  Lee,  if  your  heart  was  broken." 

With  one  impulse  the  girls  on  the  bed  drew  their  knees 
up  to  their  chins  and  hugged  them  ecstatically.  This  was 
more  than  they  had  hoped  for. 

"  Yes,  sir,  broken,"  repeated  Amelia  emphatically. 


102  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  How  d'you  know  ?  "  asked  Kittle  Dayton. 

"  Never  you  mind.    I  know  all  about  it." 

"She  didn't  tell  you?" 

"  No,  she  didn't  tell  me,  but  I  know".  She's  madly  in 
love  with  an  enemy  of  her  house." 

"  Not  really  ?  "  Laura  May's  tone  was  tremulous  with 
interest. 

Kittie  gave  her  knees  an  extra  hug.  "  It's  like  Romeo 
and  Juliet,"  she  said.  Kittie  was  a  shining  light  in  the 
English  Literature  classes. 

Satisfied  with  the  impression  she  had  made  Amelia 
gathered  her  forces  for  continuous  narrative. 

"  You  see,  her  folks  have  got  lots  of  money,  and  she's 
their  only  child,  but  her  father's  an  awful  crank  and  her 
mother  don't  dare  say  her  soul's  her  own." 

"  Don't  Katharine's  father  like  her?  " 

Amelia  was  annoyed. 

"  If  you'll  keep  still,  Kittie,  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it.  If 
you  can't  wait  I  won't  tell  you  at  all." 

Kittie  subsided,  and  the  story  flowed  on. 

"  He  adores  her,  but  he's  very  stubborn,  and  there's  a 
man  he  hates  worse  than  poison.  They  had  some  sort  of 
a  business  quarrel  a  long  time  ago,  and  Mr.  Holland  is  as 
bitter  as  can  be  yet  and  never  allows  one  of  his  family  to 
speak  to  one  of  the  other  family.  He  said  he'd  shoot  any 
Clark  who  stepped  a  foot  on  his  grounds." 


"  The  girls  on  the  bed  drew  their  knees  up  to  their  chins " 


THE   BLIGHTED   BEING  103 

Amelia's  face  was  radiant  with  satisfaction.  Her  voice 
was  hushed  for  dramatic  effect. 

"  There's  a  Clark  boy,"  she  went  on ;  then,  not  pleased 
with  the  ring  of  her  sentence,  began  again. 

"  The  hated  enemy  has  a  son."  That  was  much  better, 
and  it  gave  her  a  good  running  start.  "  He's  handsome 
as  a  prince,  and  perfectly  lovely  in  every  way."  Miss 
Lucilla  hadn't  confided  this  fact  to  Miss  Emmeline,  but 
there  are  some  things  one  knows  instinctively,  and  Amelia 
believes  in  poetic  license  as  applied  to  drama.  "  He's 
been  away  at  school,  but  he  came  home  last  June,  and  he 
and  Katharine  got  acquainted  somewhere.  She  didn't 
dare  tell  her  father  she  had  met  him,  but  she  loved  him 
desperately  at  first  sight."  Once  more  Miss  Lucilla's  Said 
facts  were  being  elaborated. 

"  Did  he  fall  in  love  that  way,  too  ? "  Kittie  was 
athirst  for  detail. 

"  He  was  crazy  over  her  the  minute  he  set  eyes  on  her, 
and  he  just  had  to  see  her  again,  and  he  got  a  friend  to 
take  her  walking  and  let  him  meet  them,  and  it  went  on 
that  way  until  they  got  so  well  acquainted  that  he  could 
make  love  to  her,  and  then  they  got  rid  of  the  friend  and 
used  to  go  walking  all  by  themselves,  and  finally  some- 
body saw  them  and  told  Katharine's  father.  My,  but  he 
was  mad.  He  sent  for  Katharine  and  she  wouldn't  lie  to 
him.  She  said  she  and  the  young  man  were  engaged  and 


io4  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

she  was  going  to  marry  him,  and  her  father  swore  some- 
thing awful,  and  her  mother  cried,  and  Katharine  was 
just  as  white  as  marble,  but  she  kept  perfectly  calm." 
Amelia  was  warming  to  her  work.  "  And  they  impris- 
oned her  in  her  room,  and  her  father  used  to  go  and  try 
to  make  her  promise  she'd  never  speak  to  her  lover  again, 
and  her  mother  used  to  cry  and  beg  her  to  give  him  up. 
But  they  couldn't  break  her  spirit  or  make  her  false  to 
her  vows,  and  finally  they  decided  to  send  her  away,  so 
they  wrote  to  Miss  Lucilla  and  told  her  all  about  it.  Miss 
Lucilla  said  she  hated  to  have  such  a  responsibility,  but 
that  they  offered  so  much  money  she  didn't  feel  she  could 
refuse  to  take  the  girl — and  that,  anyway,  the  parents 
probably  knew  best,  and  it  was  for  Katharine's  best  in- 
terests she  should  be  separated  from  the  boy.  So  Mr. 
Holland  brought  Katharine  here,  and  she's  not  to  stir  out 
without  a  teacher,  and  she's  not  to  have  any  mail  save 
what  passes  through  Miss  Lucilla's  hands  and  is  opened 
by  her,  and  she's  not  to  receive  any  callers  unless  they 
bring  a  note  from  her  father,  and  she's  not  to  write  letters 
except  to  her  mother." 

"How'll  they  help  it,  I'd  like  to  know?  They  can't 
watch  her  all  the  time,"  chorused  the  two  listeners,  each 
mentally  devoting  her  inkstand,  pen,  stationery  and  serv- 
ices as  postman  to  the  cause  of  unfortunate  love. 

"  How  we've  misjudged  her,"  sighed  Laura  May. 


THE   BLIGHTED   BEING  105 

"  I  thought  it  was  funny  she  came  here  when  she's  so 
old.  She  must  be  eighteen,  isn't  she  ?  "  asked  Kittie. 

"  Pretty  near.  I'd  elope  and  defy  my  cruel  parents  if  I 
was  eighteen,  but  she  says  she  won't  elope — that  she'll 
wait  until  she's  twenty-one,  and  then  if  her  father  won't 
give  in,  and  can't  show  her  anything  bad  about  the  man, 
she'll  marry  him  anyhow.  Miss  Lucilla  had  a  talk  with 
her,  and  she  said  Katharine  seemed  to  be  a  very  nice  girl 
and  very  reasonable  except  when  it  came  to  breaking  off 
her  love  affair,  but  that  she  was  just  as  stubborn  as  a  rock 
about  that." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  they'll  do  ?  " 

Amelia  meditated,  turning  the  searchlight  of  memory 
upon  her  favourite  novels. 

"  Well,  she  may  waste  away.  She's  pretty  thin.  I 
guess  her  father  would  feel  dreadful  when  he  stood  by  her 
deathbed.  And  then  her  lover  may  persuade  her  to  fly 
with  him.  I  wish  she'd  let  me  help  her  fly.  Or  she  may 
just  wait  till  she's  twenty-one  and  then  leave  home  with 
her  father's  curses  on  her  head,  and  if  she  did  that  her 
mother'd  probably  die  of  grief,  and  everything  her  father'd 
touch  would  fail,  and  finally  he'd  be  a  lonely,  miserable 
old  man  and  send  for  Katharine  to  forgive  him,  and  she'd 
bring  her  little  daughter  to  him  and " 

"  Why,  Amelia  Bowers !  "  protested  Kittie,  whose  slow 
brain  had  been  following  the  rapid  pace  with  difficulty, 


io6  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

and  who  had  not  lost  her  schoolmate  in  the  cursed  and 
married  heroine. 

"  Well,  it's  pretty  dreadful  any  way  you  fix  it.  She's  a 
Blighted  Being,"  said  Amelia  cheerfully.  "  We  must  be 
very  considerate  of  her.  Good-night." 

She  hurried  away,  intent  upon  spreading  her  news  be- 
fore the  "  lights-out "  bell  should  ring,  and  with  each 
telling  the  tale  grew  in  detail  and  picturesqueness. 

The  next  morning  the  girls  began  being  considerate  of 
Katharine.  If  the  Blighted  Being  noticed  the  sudden 
change  of  attitude  it  must  have  occasioned  her  some  won- 
der, if  not  considerable  annoyance.  She  was  not  a  girl  to 
air  her  wrongs  nor  bid  for  sympathy,  although  she  was 
not  brave  enough  to  assume  a  cheerful  manner  and  keep 
her  heartache  out  of  her  face.  She  learned  her  lessons, 
did  her  tasks,  was  respectful  to  the  teachers,  polite  to  the 
girls,  but  she  held  aloof  from  everyone — was,  in  the  arro- 
gant fashion  of  youth,  absorbed  in  her  own  unhappiness. 
Occasionally,  when  she  met  Belinda's  smiling,  friendly 
eyes,  her  face  softened  and  an  answering  smile  hovered 
around  her  sensitive  lips,  but  the  relaxing  went  no  further. 

Amelia  and  her  mates  found  the  victim  of  parental 
tyranny  an  absorbing  interest.  They  missed  no  word  or 
act  or  movement  of  hers  when  she  was  with  them.  They 
offered  her  caramels  and  fudge  with  an  air  of  fervent 
sympathy.  They  left  the  best  orange  for  her  at  break- 


"  They  offered  her  caramels  with  fervent  sympathy " 


THE   BLIGHTED   BEING  107 

fast.  They  allowed  her  to  head  the  crocodile  during 
morning  walk,  day  after  day,  and  allotted  the  honor  of 
walking  with  her  to  a  different  girl  each  day,  the  names 
being  taken  in  alphabetical  order. 

They  gave  her  the  end  seat  on  the  open  cars,  in  church, 
at  the  theatre.  They  surreptitiously  sharpened  her  pencils 
and  cleaned  her  desk  for  her.  They  made  offerings  of 
flowers.  They  volunteered  to  loan  her  their  novels  even 
before  they  had  read  them. 

And  Katharine,  not  understanding  the  spring  from 
which  all  this  friendliness  flowed,  unbent  slightly  as  the 
days  went  by,  paid  more  attention  to  the  life  around  her, 
yet  kept  the  tightly  closed  lips  and  the  unhappy  eyes.  She 
was  very  young,  very  much  in  love,  and  her  pride  suffered 
even  more  than  her  heart.  Mr.  Holland's  method  of 
parental  government  was,  to  put  it  mildly,  not  diplomatic. 

James,  the  handy  man  of  the  school,  was  the  only  per- 
son upon  whom  she  was  ever  actually  seen  to  smile,  but 
she  appeared  to  have  a  liking  for  James.  Amelia  several 
times  saw  her  talking  to  the  man  in  the  hall,  and  once 
something  white  and  square  passed  from  the  girl's  hands 
to  the  man's. 

"  She's  getting  James  to  mail  letters,"  announced 
Amelia  breathlessly,  breaking  in  upon  Laura  May  and 
Kittie. 

"  Bully  for  James !  "  crowed  Kittie  inelegantly.  "  But 
won't  he  catch  it  if  Miss  Lucilla  finds  out." 


io8  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

Miss  Lucilla  didn't  find  out,  but  an  avenging  Nemesis 
apparently  overtook  James,  for  a  few  days  later  he  failed 
to  appear  at  the  school  in  the  morning,  and  the  cook  had 
to  attend  to  the  furnace. 

Later  came  a  most  apologetic  note  from  the  missing 
handy  man.  He  was  ill — seriously  ill.  The  doctor  had 
forbidden  his  leaving  the  house  for  at  least  a  week.  He 
was  greatly  distressed — in  English  of  remarkable  spelling 
— because  he  was  inconveniencing  Miss  Ryder,  but  he 
didn't  want  to  give  up  the  place  altogether,  and  if  he 
might  be  allowed  to  send  a  substitute  for  a  week  or  so 
he  would  surely  be  able  to  take  up  work  again  at  the  end 
of  that  time.  He  had  a  friend  in  mind — a  nice,  respectable 
young  fellow  who  would  do  the  work  well  and  could  be 
trusted  even  with  the  silver — a  bit  youngish,  perhaps,  but 
willing  and  handy.  Should  he  send  him  ? 

Miss  Lucilla  answered  by  messenger.  The  young  man 
was  to  come  at  once.  The  snow  must  be  shoveled  from 
the  steps  and  walk  before  time  for  the  day  scholars  to 
arrive.  She  hoped  James  would  soon  be  able  to  return, 
but  she  would  give  his  friend  a  trial. 

Half  an  hour  later  a  manly  young  fellow  in  very  shabby 
clothes  presented  himself,  had  an  interview  with  Miss  Lu- 
cilla, who  told  her  sister  that  he  seemed  a  very  decent 
person,  and  adjusted  to  his  shoulders  the  burden  of  duties 
laid  down  by  James.  He  bore  the  burden  lightly,  did  his 


THE   BLIGHTED   BEING  109 

work  with  cheerful  conscientiousness,  and  made  himself 
useful  in  many  ways  unknown  to  the  former  incumbent. 
Norah  and  the  other  maid  smiled  upon  him  ineffectively. 

"  Always  ready  to  lend  ye  a  hand  at  an  odd  job,  but 
divil  a  kiss  or  a  bit  of  love-making  behind  the  door,"  No- 
rah explained  to  Amelia,  who  had  sniffed  an  incipient 
romance  below  stairs  when  she  first  saw  the  new  man. 

Miss  Lucilla  congratulated  herself  upon  the  addition  to 
her  staff  of  servants  and  sought  an  excuse  for  letting 
James  go  altogether  and  cleaving  to  his  friend.  The 
teachers  sang  the  praises  of  Augustus,  the  girls  found  him 
obliging  and  resourceful  in  smuggling,  the  servants 
couldn't  pick  quarrels  with  him.  Evidently  here  was  a 
gem  of  purest  ray  serene — that  pearl  beyond  price,  a  per- 
fect servant. 

The  incomparable  Augustus  was  seldom  in  evidence 
above  the  basement,  save  when  he  went  to  the  study  for 
orders,  moved  the  furniture,  or  did  odd  jobs  of  carpenter- 
ing; but  he  was  intrusted  with  the  cleaning  and  setting 
in  order  of  the  big  schoolroom,  and  Katharine  Holland  was 
occasionally  in  his  way  there.  She  liked  to  study  before 
breakfast. 

One  Tuesday  night,  when  study  hour  was  over,  the  girls 
had  gone  to  their  rooms,  and  the  downstairs  lights  were 
out,  Belinda  sat  in  her  room,  correcting  examination  pa- 
pers. She  struggled  through  the  pile,  reached  the  last 


no  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

paper,  and  found  that  several  sheets  of  it  were  missing. 
A  careful  search  in  the  room  failed  to  bring  them  to  light ; 
and  the  Youngest  Teacher,  with  a  frown  of  vexation  be- 
tween her  pretty  brows,  picked  up  a  match,  girded  her 
dressing  gown  about  her,  and  making  no  noise  in  her 
knitted  bedside  slippers,  went  swiftly  down  the  stairs. 

The  door  of  the  large  schoolroom,  where  she  expected 
to  find  her  missing  papers,  was  closed;  and  as  Belinda 
stopped  before  it  she  fancied  that  she  heard  a  murmur 
of  voices  beyond  the  door.  She  hesitated,  smiled  at  her- 
self, struck  a  match  sharply,  and  threw  open  the  door. 

There  was  a  sudden  movement  in  the  room — a  smoth- 
ered exclamation.  The  light  of  the  match  fell  full  upon  a 
man  who  held  a  girl  in  his  arms. 

So  much  Belinda  saw  before  she  put  out  her  hand  to  the 
electric  button  and  turned  on  the  light. 

Before  her  stood  the  incomparable  Augustus,  shabby, 
handsome,  defiant ;  and  to  his  arm  clung  Katharine  Hol- 
land, white  and  frightened,  but  with  her  head  up  and  a 
challenge  in  her  eyes. 

Belinda  stared  for  a  second  in  bewilderment.  Then  she 
understood.  She  tried  to  remember  that  she  was  a  teacher 
and  to  fix  the  culprits  with  an  icy  glare,  but  Belinda  is  not 
very  old  herself,  and  in  common  with  all  the  world  she 
loves  a  lover.  The  situation  was  shocking — but — the  look 
on  the  girl's  face  was  too  much  for  the  Youngest  Teach- 
er's severity. 


THE   BLIGHTED   BEING  in 

Impulsively  Belinda  held  out  her  arms. 

"  Oh,  your  poor  child,"  she  said.  "  You  poor,  foolish, 
hurt  child."  Her  voice  was  athrill  with  tenderness.  Her 
face  was  aglow  with  the  mother-love  that  lives  in  the 
woman  heart  from  doll  days  to  the  end  of  life. 

"  With  a  little  sob  the  girl  moved  forward  blindly. 
Belinda's  arms  went  round  her  and  drew  her  close. 

"  Hush,  dear.  Don't  cry.  This  is  all  wrong,  but  you've 
been  very  unhappy  and  you  didn't  mean  to  do  wrong." 

The  Youngest  Teacher's  eyes  met  those  of  the  boy  who 
stood,  crimson-cheered,  uncertain,  under  the  glare  of  the 
electric  light;  and  she  studied  his  face — a  good-looking, 
determined  face,  with  honest  manliness  under  its  boyish 
recklessness. 

"  It  wasn't  fair,"  she  said  softly.  "  It  wasn't  fair  to  her. 
You  would  take  care  of  her  better  than  this  if  you  loved 
her." 

The  recklessness  faded,  leaving  the  manliness. 

"  They've  treated  us  abominably." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  but  she  is  only  seventeen — and  clandes- 
tine meetings  are  vulgar  and  dangerous." 

"  Her  father  can't  give  any  reason  except  that  ridiculous 
family  feud." 

"A  scandal  would  furnish  an  excellent  reason,  and 
justify  him  in  his  attitude  toward  you." 

"  But  there  isn't  going  to  be  any  scandal." 


ii2  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  Suppose  someone  else  had  found  you  here  and  told 
the  story  broadcast." 

He  winced. 

"  But  I  can't  live  without  seeing  her  sometimes." 

"  Then  your  love  is  a  very  small,  boyish  thing.  A  man 
who  loved  her  could  wait." 

He  had  come  forward  now  and  was  looking  straight 
into  her  accusing  face. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  going  to  tell  Miss  Ryder,  and  Kath- 
arine will  be  sent  home  in  disgrace  ?  " 

Belinda  shook  her  head.  "  What  I  do  depends  upon 
you.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  tell.  I  owe  a  duty  to  Miss 
Ryder — but  then  I  owe  something  to  Katharine,  too.  She 
needs  sympathy  and  sane  counsel  more  than  harshness.  I 
think  you  are  honest — though  that  was  a  dishonest,  under- 
hand trick  of  yours.  If  you  will  give  me  your  word  of 
honour  as  a  gentleman  not  to  try  to  see  Katharine  again 
while  she  is  here  I  will  say  nothing  about  this." 

He  hesitated,  looked  down  at  the  rumpled  head  upon 
Belinda's  shoulder. 

"Shall  I  do  it,  Katharine?" 

Belinda's  face  flamed  indignantly. 

"  Are  you  coward  enough  to  shift  the  responsibility  to 
her?  Aren't  you  man  enough  to  do  what  is  best  for  her, 
no  matter  what  she  says  ?  " 

The  broad  shoulders  squared  themselves. 


THE   BLIGHTED   BEING  113 

"I'll  promise." 

"  Does  any  one  know  about  this  escapade  ?  " 

"  James." 

"  Can  you  shut  his  mouth  securely  ?  " 

"  I  will." 

"  You  would  better  go  now." 

He  moved  a  step  nearer. 

"  Good-by,  dear." 

Katharine  lifted  a  tear-stained  face. 

"  You'll  not  stop  caring  ? "  There  was  a  sob  in  her 
voice. 

"  It's  only  a  question  of  waiting,  sweetheart,"  he  said 
gently ;  "  and  we  love  each  other  well  enough  to  wait." 

He  looked  beseechingly  at  the  Youngest  Teacher,  who, 
being  a  very  human  pedagogue,  turned  her  back  upon 
the  tragic  young  things ;  but  a  moment  later  she  held  out 
a  friendly  hand  to  the  departing  lover. 

"  Good-by.    I'll  trust  you." 

"  Good-by.  You  may.  I  do  love  her.  Be  good  to  her," 
he  added  brokenly  as  he  disappeared  through  the  door. 

Belinda  was  good  to  her;  and  long  after  the  girl  was 
asleep,  the  Youngest  Teacher  lay  awake,  puzzling  over 
problems  of  right  and  wrong,  of  duty  and  impulse,  of 
justice  and  mercy. 

"  They  are  only  children,"  she  said  from  her  pinnacle  of 
two-and-twenty  years. 


ii4  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  But  children's  hurts  are  hard  to  bear  while  they  last," 
her  heart  answered  promptly. 

"  Perhaps  I  was  all  wrong.  Probably  I  ought  to  have 
been  more  severe — but  now  I've  promised  " — and  Belinda 
was  asleep. 

The  next  morning  the  incomparable  Augustus  had  dis- 
appeared from  the  horizon.  The  faithful  James,  attired 
in  a  sporty  new  suit,  new  shoes  and  necktie,  and  looking 
astonishingly  well  and  prosperous  for  a  man  who  reported 
himself  as  just  back  from  the  gates  of  death,  was  once 
more  in  his  accustomed  place. 

"  James  is  a  good  soul,  but  Augustus  had  so  much  more 
resourcefulness  and  initiative,"  said  Miss  Lucilla  regret- 
fully. 

"  He  had,"  agreed  Belinda. 


THE   PASSING   OF   AN   AFFINITY 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE   PASSING   OF   AN    AFFINITY 

MADAME  NOVERI,  reader  of  palms  and  cards, 
and  dabbler  in  astrology,  was  an  institution  in 
the  Ryder  school. 

The  Misses  Ryder  did  not  wholly  approve  of  her,  but 
when  Miss  Lucilla  felt  qualms  of  conscience  concerning 
traffic  with  the  black  arts,  Miss  Emmeline  reminded  her 
that  Madame  had  been  patronized  by  the  Vanderhuysens, 
and  the  older  sister,  whose  creed  included  a  belief  that  the 
Four  Hundred,  like  the  King,  can  do  no  wrong,  smoothed 
the  wrinkles  from  her  brow  and  her  conscience. 

"  I  suppose  it  would  be  foolish  not  to  allow  her  to  come 
occasionally.  The  young  ladies  like  it,  and  she  has  prom- 
ised not  to  tell  them  anything  tragic,"  she  said  reluctantly. 

So  Madame  Noveri  came  to  the  school  once  or  twice  a 
year,  and  she  kept  her  word  about  the  tragedy,  but  as  for 
sentiment — little  did  the  Misses  Ryder  know  of  the  ro- 
mances she  evoked  from  rosy  palms  and  greasy  cards. 

It  was  Amelia  Bowers  who  suggested  calling  in  the 
priestess  of  the  occult  to  lighten  the  general  gloom  follow- 


u8  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

ing  the  end  of  the  Christmas  holidays  and  a  return  to  the 
Ryder  fold. 

"  This  is  simply  too  dead  slow  for  anything,"  groaned 
the  fair  Amelia.  "  Let's  ask  Miss  Ryder  if  we  may  send 
for  Madame  Noveri.  I'd  like  to  see  whether  meeting 
George  Pettingill  at  the  New  Year's  dance  did  anything 
to  the  lines  in  my  hand.  Good  gracious !  I  should  think 
it  would  have  made  a  perfect  furrow." 

The  other  girls  seconded  Amelia's  motion,  a  deputation 
waited  upon  Miss  Ryder,  and,  within  an  hour,  the  palm- 
ist was  holding  Amelia's  hand  in  the  little  waiting-room 
to  which  the  other  seekers  after  knowledge  were  admitted, 
one  by  one. 

Madame  instantly  detected  the  havoc  wrought  by  young 
Pettingill ;  or,  at  least,  as  Amelia  said  afterward,  "  she 
didn't  see  his  name,  but  she  knew  right  away  that  there 
had  been  some  one  during  the  holidays."  But  it  was  for 
Cynthia  Weston  that  Madame  Noveri  flung  wide  the  gates 
of  the  future  and  revealed  coming  events  of  absorbing 
interest. 

Cynthia  enjoyed  the  enviable  distinction  of  being  the 
prettiest  girl  in  the  school,  and  disputed  with  Laura  May 
Lee  the  honor  of  being  the  best  dressed  of  the  Ryder 
pupils.  In  addition  she  was  a  good  student,  she  was 
amiable,  and  her  manners  were  the  admiration  of  the 
faculty.  Taking  all  this  into  consideration,  the  fact  that 


THE  PASSING    OF   AN   AFFINITY       119 

she  was  even  more  sentimental  than  the  ever-gushing 
Amelia  could  not  effectually  dim  her  radiance.  More- 
over, her  sentimentality  was  of  a  finer  fibre  than  that  of 
her  chum.  She  did  not  fall  in  love  with  the  lightning- 
change-artist  celerity  displayed  by  Amelia.  Man  domi- 
nated her  horizon  as  well  as  that  of  her  friend,  but  for 
her  man  was  an  abstraction,  a  transcendentally  perfect 
being,  who  might  come  around  any  corner  to  meet  her, 
and  for  whom  she  waited  breathlessly.  She  read  novels 
and  dreamed  of  a  hero.  Amelia  read  the  same  novels 
and  saw  a  hero  in  every  man  she  met. 

As  it  happened,  for  one  reason  or  another,  Cynthia  had 
never  consulted  Madame  Noveri,  but  the  occult  note 
appealed  to  her  romantic  side,  and  she  needed  only  slight 
evidence  to  convince  her  that  Madame  was,  as  Amelia 
contended,  "  a  wonder."  The  evidence  was  speedily 
forthcoming.  Closeted  with  the  fortune-teller,  Cynthia 
heard  an  analysis  of  her  own  character  and  tastes,  which 
owed  its  accuracy  to  skillful  pumping  of  Amelia,  but 
which  impressed  the  listener  profoundly. 

By  the  time  Madame  Noveri  had  thrown  in  a  few  facts 
concerning  the  Weston  family  history — also  gathered 
from  the  unsuspecting  Amelia — Cynthia  was  ready  to  ac- 
cept as  inspired  truth  any  revelations  that  might  be  made 
to  her. 

Then  Madame,  shrewd  in  knowledge  of  schoolgirl 
logic,  felt  that  it  was  safe  to  turn  to  prophecy. 


120  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  A  crisis  is  coming  in  your  life,"  she  said  solemnly. 
"  It  is  written  in  your  hand.  Let  me  see  what  the  cards 
tell." 

She  shuffled  the  cards  and  bent  over  them,  while  Cyn- 
thia, thrilled  by  the  thought  of  an  approaching  crisis, 
watched  eagerly. 

"  Yes ;  it  is  here,  too.  I  knew  the  hand  could  not  lie. 
A  dark  man  is  coming  into  your  life." 

Cynthia  gasped  ecstatically.    She  admired  dark  men. 

"  It  is  all  clear  in  the  cards.  There  is  the  fate  card,  and 
there  is  the  dark  man." 

"  I  do  hope  he  hasn't  a  moustache,"  murmured  the 
listener.  "  Can  you  see  his  name  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  And  you  can't  tell  where  I'll  met  him,  or  how,  or 
when?" 

"  The  cards  don't  say,  but  it  will  be  soon,  and  there's 
the  money  card,  so  he'll  be  rich.  You'll  both  fall  in  love 
the  moment  you  meet.  He's  your  affinity." 

Cynthia  went  out  of  the  room  in  a  sentimental  trance. 
At  last  her  dream  was  coming  true.  Not  a  tinge  of  skep- 
ticism lurked  in  her  mind.  Hadn't  Madame  told  her  all 
about  her  innermost  feelings,  and  about  her  sister  Molly 
having  been  ill  with  diphtheria,  and  about  her  father  hav- 
ing made  a  big  fortune  out  of  pine  lands,  and  about  her 
having  refused  little  Billy  Bennington,  whose  father  was 


"  '  A  dark  man  is  coming  into  your  life  ' " 


THE   PASSING    OF   AN   AFFINITY       121 

a  millionaire  and  had  a  huge  house  on  Fifth  Avenue? 
No;  there  was  no  room  for  doubt. 

She  laughed  off  the  questions  of  the  girls.  What  she 
had  learned  was  too  sacred  to  be  told  to  anyone  except 
Amelia  and  Laura  May,  and  possibly  Blanche  White. 

After  the  lights  were  out  that  night  she  told  them,  and 
their  sympathy  and  excitement  were  all  she  could  have 
desired. 

"  Goodness,  but  I  just  envy  you,  Cynthia  Weston,"  said 
Amelia  in  a  stage  whisper,  which  was  a  concession  to  the 
faculty's  unreasonable  prejudice  against  visiting  after 
"  lights-out "  bell.  "  It's  the  most  exciting  thing  I  ever 
heard.  He  may  pop  out  at  you  anywhere.  She  said  it 
would  be  soon,  didn't  she  ?  " 

"  Very  soon."  There  was  a  soulful  pride  in  Cynthia's 
manner,  a  tremulous  thrill  in  her  voice. 

"  Well,  we'll  all  watch  out  for  him.  I'm  almost  as  in- 
terested as  if  I  were  it,"  said  Laura  May  generously ;  and 
Cynthia  crept  cautiously  to  her  own  room,  to  dream  of  a 
beautiful  being  with  raven  hair  and  piercing  black  eyes — 
and  no  moustache. 

The  days  following  that  eventful  evening  were  agitat- 
ing ones  for  Cynthia.  Every  dark-haired  man  who 
passed  the  school  procession  during  the  morning  excursion 
set  her  heart  palpitating.  Katharine  Holland's  dark-eyed 
brother  turning  up  unexpectedly  at  the  school  was  flat- 


122  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

tered  by  the  tremendous  impression  he  made  upon  his 
sister's  friend,  Miss  Weston ;  a  swarthy  book-agent  who 
succeeded  in  obtaining  an  interview  with  Miss  Ryder  was 
surprised  when  a  pretty  girl  whom  he  passed  on  the  stairs 
grasped  hastily  at  the  baluster  and  seemed  quite  over- 
come by  emotion. 

At  any  moment  the  affinity  might  appear ;  but  the  days 
went  by  and  still  he  delayed  his  coming. 

A  new  play,  fresh  from  Western  successes,  had  begun 
a  New  York  run  upon  the  preceding  Monday  night ;  and 
with  its  advent  a  new  matinee  idol  had  dawned  upon  the 
theatrical  horizon.  Critics  chanted  praises  of  his  beaux 
yeux,  a  strenuous  press-agent  scattered  broadcast  tales 
of  his  conquests,  of  the  countless  letters  he  had  received 
from  infatuated  maidens,  of  the  heiresses  and  society 
belles  who  had  fallen  victims  to  his  charms.  Occasionally 
some  one  mentioned  that  he  could  act,  but  that  was  a 
minor  consideration. 

Rumors  of  his  fatal  beauty  reached  the  school  by  way 
of  a  day  pupil  who  had  seen  the  play  on  its  first  night, 
and  Amelia,  Laura  May,  Cynthia,  Blanche  and  Kittie 
Dayton  promptly  bought  tickets  for  the  Saturday  matinee 
and  asked  Belinda  to  chaperon  them.  They  were  in  their 
seats  early,  and  tranquilly  watched  the  curtain  go  up  upon 
a  conventional  drawing-room  scene;  but  as  Cecil  Ran- 
dolph, the  leading  man,  turned  from  the  window  at  the 


THE   PASSING    OF   AN   AFFINITY       123 

back  of  the  stage  and  strolled  toward  the  footlights, 
Belinda  heard  a  queer  little  choking  sound  from  Cynthia, 
who  sat  beside  her,  and  saw  her  clutch  Amelia's  arm. 

The  matinee  idol  was  tall,  he  had  black  hair  and  eyes, 
he  was  smooth-shaven — and  Cynthia  knew! 

The  other  girls  were  inclined  to  discount  her  claim 
when  they  had  a  chance  to  talk  the  matter  over.  Friend- 
ship is  all  very  well,  but  to  give  a  matinee  idol  up  to  any 
one  girl,  without  entering  a  protest,  would  be  more  than 
human.  Still  there  was  no  denying  that  the  event  fitted 
into  Madame  Noveri's  prediction  at  every  point,  and  it 
was  natural  to  suppose  that  if  Cynthia  had  met  her  affinity 
according  to  schedule  she  would  be  absolutely  certain  of 
his  identity,  so  the  confidants  finally  accepted  the  situa- 
tion and  gave  themselves  up  to  vital  interest  in  their 
friend's  romance,  while  Cynthia  herself  went  about  with 
her  head  in  the  clouds,  drove  her  teachers  to  despair  by 
her  absent-mindedness,  read  the  theatrical  columns  of  all 
the  papers,  and  wasted  her  substance  in  riotous  buying  of 
photographs.  As  for  the  amount  of  money  squandered 
upon  matinee  tickets  during  those  weeks — o"nly  the  long- 
suffering  fathers  who  were  called  upon  for  supplemen- 
tary pocket-money  could  do  justice  to  that  tale  of  ex- 
travagance. 

Amelia  and  Laura  May  and  Blanche  stood  by  nobly. 
If  anything  exciting  were  going  to  happen  they  wanted  to 


124  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

be  there  when  it  happened ;  so  they  went  with  Cynthia  to 
all  her  affinity's  matinees  and  occasionally  to  an  evening 
performance.  All  of  the  teachers  were  successively 
pressed  into  service,  and  when  the  list  gave  out  the  girls 
began  again  with  Belinda.  Sometimes,  when  the  other 
girls'  pocket-money  ran  short,  Cynthia  paid  for  all  the 
seats. 

In  due  course  Cecil  Randolph  noticed  the  group  that 
invariably  occupied  seats  in  the  third  row,  and  smiled 
upon  the  girls — not  his  inclusive,  catholic,  matinee-idol 
smile,  which  might  be  taken  to  heart  by  any  girl  in  the 
audience,  but  a  personal,  italicize'd  smile  all  their  own. 
The  chaperon  missed  the  phenomenon,  but  all  four  girls 
thrilled  with  delight,  though  three  loyal  hearts  passed  the 
smile  on  to  Cynthia,  its  rightful  owner.  Even  the  idol 
himself  accentuated  his  smile  when  it  reached  the  fair 
girl  with  the  blushing  cheeks  and  eager  eyes.  She  was 
so  uncommonly  pretty,  and  though  it  paid  him  to  be 
adored  by  the  plain  it  was  a  pleasant  thing  to  be  adored 
by  the  pretty. 

On  the  eleventh  of  February  Cynthia  gave  a  luncheon 
and  box  party  to  her  faithful  three  with  Miss  Spogg  as 
chaperon.  Mr.  Weston's  monthly  check  had  been  more 
liberal  than  usual,  and  a  box  is  even  nearer  the  stage  than 
the  third  row  of  the  orchestra  chairs. 

The  idol's  special  smile  followed  the  group  to  the  box. 


"...    wasted  her  substance  in  riotous  buying  of  photographs  " 


THE   PASSING    OF   AN   AFFINITY       125 

Perhaps  it  was  even  warmer,  more  melting  than  usual ; 
for  the  four  girls  were  uncommonly  good  to  look  at,  in 
their  dainty  frocks  and  hats,  and  with  the  great  bunches 
of  long-stemmed  single  violets,  which  had  been  luncheon 
favors,  nestling  among  their  laces  and  chiffons  and  furs. 

During  his  great  scene  in  the  last  act  the  actor  faced  the 
Ryder  box  and  Cynthia  bore  the  brunt  of  his  wild  raving. 
Even  near-sighted  Miss  Spogg  had  an  uncomfortable 
feeling  that  all  was  not  quite  as  it  should  be,  and  regis 
tered  a  mental  vow  that  she  would  protest  to  Miss  Ryder 
against  the  conspicuousness  of  box  seats;  but  the  girls 
were  too  completely  absorbed  to  feel  conspicuous,  and 
Cynthia,  cheeks  flaming,  eyes  glowing,  red  lips  apart, 
drank  in  the  love  scene  as  though  she  hadn't  already 
known  it  by  heart  and  were  not  sharing  it  with  hundreds 
of  strangers.  She  was  absurdly  young,  unspeakably  fool- 
ish, but  she  was  beyond  a  shadow  of  a  doubt  enjoying 
life — and  it  is  hard  to  be  severe  with  any  one  so  pretty 
and  impractical  as  Cynthia. 

As  the  curtain  fell  upon  the  hero's  hopeless  passion  the 
little  maid's  hands  went  to  her  breast,  and  an  instant  later 
a  huge  bunch  of  long-stemmed  violets  dropped  at  the 
idol's  feet.  He  did  not  ruin  his  curtain  pose  by  picking 
them  up,  but  for  one  fleeting  second  he  smiled  his  thanks. 
Miss  Spogg  was,  of  course,  irate ;  but  there  were  ways  of 
appeasing  Miss  Spogg,  and  Cynthia  knew  them. 


126  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

On  Valentine's  Day  morning  the  school  postman's  load 
was  heavy,  and  the  solemnity  of  chapel  was  marred  by  a 
pervading  excitement. 

Cynthia  had  valentines — several  of  them — yet  she  did 
not  look  happy.  All  of  her  envelopes  bore  home  post- 
marks, and  she  had  expected — well,  she  hardly  knew  what 
she  had  expected,  but  something,  surely. 

After  chapel  came  French  recitation,  and  the  Dis- 
appointed One  was  wrestling  in  melancholy  fashion  with 
the  imperfect  subjunctive,  when  a  maid  appeared  at  the 
door. 

"  A  box  for  Miss  Weston,"  she  announced  to  the 
teacher. 

"  Put  it  in  her  room,"  commanded  Mademoiselle. 

"  Please,  ma'am,  it's  flowers.    Should  I  open  them?  " 

Mademoiselle  smiled.  She  remembered  valentine  offer- 
ings of  her  own. 

"  You  may  be  excused  to  attend  to  the  flowers,  Miss 
Weston.  Come  back  as  soon  as  possible." 

Cynthia  took  the  big,  square  box  and  fled  to  her  room. 
Her  prophetic  soul  told  her  what  the  contents  would  be. 

She  removed  the  wrapping  and  the  lid.  A  gust  of  fra- 
grance sweetened  the  room.  The  blonde  head  went  down 
over  the  flowers  and  the  pretty  face  was  hidden  in  them. 
Then  Cynthia  lifted  from  the  box  a  great  mass  of  long- 
stemmed  single  violets,  and  with  fast-beating  heart  read 


Cynthia  quite  forgot  to  go  back  to  the  French  class  " 


THE   PASSING    OF   AN   AFFINITY        127 

the  legend  on  the  little  valentine  tucked  among  the  blos- 
soms. 

"  Love's  offering,"  said  the  valentine. 

Cynthia  quite  forgot  to  go  back  to  the  French  class; 
and  when,  at  the  end  of  the  period,  Amelia,  Laura  May 
and  Blanche  burst  in  upon  her,  she  was  still  sitting  with 
the  flowers  in  her  lap  and  the  card  in  her  hand. 

"  From  him?  "  chorused  the  girls. 

Cynthia  nodded  dreamily  and  handed  them  the  card. 
Of  course  they  were  from  him. 

If  the  history  of  that  week  could  be  adequately  written 
the  chapter  might  be  headed  "  The  Cult  of  the  Violet." 

Cynthia  worshipped  at  the  shrine  of  the  valentine  vio- 
lets. She  clipped  their  stems,  she  changed  the  water  in 
the  vase,  she  opened  the  window  and  shut  the  register  be- 
cause the  room  was  too  warm  for  violets,  she  shut  the 
window  and  opened  the  register  for  fear  of  chilling  the 
flowers.  When  not  on  duty  elsewhere  she  might  ordi- 
narily be  seen  sitting  in  her  own  room  gazing  at  the  purple 
blossoms  like  a  meditating  Yogi. 

Some  time  the  flowers  would  fade  and  she  would  dry 
them  and  lay  them  away ;  but  if  she  could  only  keep  them 
fresh  enough  to  wear  to  the  matinee  on  Saturday!  Of 
course  they  would  be  a  little  withered,  but  he  would 
understand  that. 

Friday  night,  both  Cynthia  and  Amelia  were  elected  to 


isS  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

dine  at  the  Waldorf  with  Kittie  Dayton  and  her  uncle — 
an  old  bachelor  uncle  who  spent  several  months  in  New 
York  each  winter,  and,  feeling  that  he  must  do  something 
for  Kittie  at  least  once  during  his  stay,  lightened  his  pen- 
ance by  inviting  two  of  her  prettiest  friends  to  share  his 
hospitality  with  her. 

Cynthia  was  too  deep  in  romance  to  be  enthusiastic 
about  the  outing,  but  the  engagement  was  of  long  stand- 
ing, and  even  the  most  love-lorn  of  boarding-school  girls 
is  not  wholly  impervious  to  the  charms  of  a  good  dinner. 
So  the  three  girls  were  escorted  to  the  hotel  and  left  in 
Mr.  Dayton's  charge.  Under  his  wing  they  entered  the 
dining-room,  found  the  table  reserved  for  them,  and  were 
seated  by  an  impressive  head-waiter. 

Then  they  looked  about  them  and  Cynthia  stiffened 
suddenly  in  her  chair,  while  Amelia  gave  vent  to  a  smoth- 
ered "Oh!" 

Kittie  followed  their  eyes,  but  couldn't  fully  appreciate 
their  emotion. 

"  Why,  there's  Cecil  Randolph  at  the  next  table,"  she 
whispered  joyously.  "  What  larks  to  meet  him  off  the 
stage.  Isn't  he  perfectly  seraphic  ?  " 

Mr.  Dayton's  glance  travelled  idly  to  the  adjoining 
table. 

"  Yes,  that's  Randolph  and  his  wife.  Handsome  cou- 
ple, aren't  they  ?  " 


THE   PASSING    OF   AN   AFFINITY       129 

Amelia  swallowed  an  oyster  whole,  and  created  a  fortu- 
nate though  involuntary  diversion  by  choking  violently ; 
while  Cynthia,  under  cover  of  the  excitement,  clutched  at 
composure  and  fought  a  sharp  but  successful  battle 
against  tears. 

Married!  Her  affinity  married!  Well,  after  all,  Ma- 
dame Noveri  had  never  promised  she  would  marry  the 
dark  man.  She  had  only  foretold  a  coming  crisis — and 
this  was  the  crisis. 

The  thought  of  being  in  the  middle  of  a  bona-fide  crisis 
was  distinctly  uplifting.  She  must  be  brave.  Her  favour- 
ite heroines  always  smiled  bravely  with  white  lips  when 
they  were  sorely  smitten  by  grief. 

She  and  the  idol  could  never  marry  and  live  happily 
ever  afterward,  but  there  was  a  certain  consoling  splen- 
dour in  having  been  loved  hopelessly  by  such  a  perfect 
hero — for  he  did  love  her.  She  was  sure  of  that.  Of 
course  he  ought  not  to  have  done  it,  ought  not  to  have 
sent  her  the  violets  and  the  love  message;  but  that  was 
Fate !  Hadn't  Madame  Noveri  known  all  about  the  thing 
before  it  happened  ? 

Cynthia  sighed  miserably.  She  was  quite  sure  that  her 
heart  was  broken,  but  she  was  glad  he  loved  her,  and  she 
would  treasure  his  violets  always,  though  she  would  not 
go  to  the  matinee  to  see  him  again.  All  was  over. 

The  dinner  ended  at  last;  and  as  the  Dayton  party  filed 


130  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

past  the  Randolph  table  their  progress  was  blocked  by  an 
incoming  group.  Cynthia  did  not  raise  her  eyes ;  but  sud- 
denly her  affinity's  jovial  voice  fell  upon  her  ears  like  a 
blow. 

"  Look,  Daisy,  there's  the  little  girl  who's  so  silly 
over  me — yes;  the  blonde  one.  Pretty  child,  isn't  she? 
Too  bad  to  encourage  such  infants,  but  they  mean  box- 
office  receipts,  and  we  have  to  earn  terrapin  like  this,  in 
one  way  or  another." 

Just  how  Cynthia  got  out  of  the  room  she  will  never 
know.  She  was  blushing  furiously,  for  shame's  sake,  and 
the  tears  of  mortification  in  her  eyes  kept  her  from  recog- 
nizing Billy  Bennington  immediately  when  he  appeared 
at  her  elbow. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  Miss  Weston,  this  is  jolly.  Let  me  go  out 
to  the  carriage  with  you." 

Billy  was  a  nice  little  boy,  but  she  hated  him.  She 
hoped  she'd  never  see  a  man  again.  She  wished  she  were 
dead.  She  rather  thought  she'd  go  into  a  convent. 

"  D-d-id  you  g-get  my  valentine  ?  "  stammered  Billy. 

He  knew  that  something  had  gone  wrong  with  his 
divinity,  and  he  was  embarrassed,  but  his  conscience  was 
clear. 

Cynthia  shook  her  head. 

"  What  ?    You  never  got  my  violets  ?  " 

She  turned  toward  him  swiftly. 


THE   PASSING    OF   AN   AFFINITY       131 

"Violets?" 

"  Why,  yes.  I  sent  you  those  big  single  ones  you  like 
best,  and  I  put  a  little  valentine  in  with  them." 

She  looked  at  the  chubby  little  figure,  the  round,  rosy 
face,  the  neatly-parted  blond  hair,  the  downy  moustache. 

For  a  moment  a  resplendent  vision  of  a  raven-haired 
hero  blotted  out  poor  Billy's  image,  and  the  little  girl 
winked  fast  to  keep  back  the  tears.  She  had  learned  a 
lesson  not  down  on  the  Ryder  schedule  and  found  it 
overwhelming,  but  she  managed  to  smile  faintly. 

"  Yes,  I  did  get  the  flowers.  Thank  you  so  much,"  she 
said  in  a  small,  wobbly  voice. 

The  carriage  door  slammed  and  she  was  whirled  away, 
while  Billy  stood  gazing  fatuously  into  the  night. 

The  next  morning  there  were  long-stemmed  single  vio- 
lets and  shredded  photographs  in  the  Ryder  ash-can. 


THE   QUEER   LITTLE   THING 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE   QUEER   LITTLE  THING 

BONITA  ALLEN  was  a  queef  little  thing.  Every- 
one in  the  school,  from  Miss  Ryder  down  to  the 
chambermaid,  had  made  remarks  to  that  effect  be- 
fore the  child  had  spent  forty-eight  hours  in  the  house,  yet 
no  one  seemed  able  to  give  a  convincing  reason  for  the 
general  impression. 

The  new  pupil  was  quiet,  docile,  moderately  well 
dressed,  fairly  good  looking.  She  did  nothing  extraor- 
dinary. In  fact,  she  effaced  herself  as  far  as  possible ; 
yet  from  the  first  she  caused  a  ripple  in  the  placid  current 
of  the  school,  and  her  personality  was  distinctly  felt. 

"  I  think  it's  her  eyes,"  hazarded  Belinda,  as  she  and 
Miss  Barnes  discussed  the  newcomer  in  the  Youngest 
Teacher's  room.  "  They  aren't  girl  eyes  at  all." 

"  Fine  eyes,"  asserted  the  teacher  of  mathematics  with 
her  usual  curtness. 

Belinda  nodded  emphatic  assent.  "  Yes,  of  course ; 
beautiful,  but  so  big  and  pathetic  and  dumb.  I  feel  ridic- 
ulously apologetic  every  time  the  child  looks  at  me,  and 
as  for  punishing  her — I'd  as  soon  shoot  a  deer  at  si^ 


i3 6  CONCERNING    BELINDA 

paces.  It's  all  wrong.  A  twelve-year-old  girl  hasn't  any 
right  to  eyes  like  those.  If  the  youngster  is  unhappy  she 
ought  to  cry  twenty-five  handkerchiefs  full  of  tears,  as 
Evangeline  Marie  did  when  she  came,  and  then  get  over 
it.  And  if  she's  happy  she  ought  to  smile  with  her  eyes 
as  well  as  her  lips.  I  can't  stand  self-repression  in  chil- 
dren." 

"  She'll  be  all  right  when  she  has  been  here  longer  and 
begins  to  feel  at  home,"  said  Miss  Barnes.  But  Belinda 
shook  her  head  doubtfully  as  she  went  down  to  superin- 
tend study  hour. 

Seated  at  her  desk  in  the  big  schoolroom  she  looked 
idly  along  the  rows  of  girlish  heads  until  she  came  to  one 
bent  stoically  over  a  book.  The  new  pupil  was  not  fidget- 
ing like  her  comrades.  Apparently  her  every  thought 
was  concentrated  upon  the  book  before  her,  and  her  el- 
bows were  on  her  desk.  One  lean  little  brown  hand  sup- 
ported the  head,  whose  masses  of  straight,  black  hair 
were  parted  in  an  unerring  white  line  and  fell  in  two 
heavy  braids.  The  face  framed  in  the  smooth,  shining 
hair  was  lean  as  the  hand,  yet  held  no  suggestion  of  ill- 
health.  It  was  clean-cut  almost  to  sharpness,  brown  with 
the  brownness  that  comes  from  wind  and  sun,  oddly  firm 
about  chin  and  lips,  high  of  cheekbones,  straight  of  nose. 

As  Belinda  looked  two  dark  eyes  were  raised  from  the 
book  and  met  her  own — sombre  eyes  with  a  hurt  in  them 


THE    QUEER   LITTLE    THING  137 

— and  an  uncomfortable  lump  rose  in  the  Youngest 
Teacher's  throat.  She  smiled  at  the  sad  little  face,  but 
the  smile  was  not  a  merry  one.  In  some  unaccountable 
way  it  spoke  of  the  sympathetic  lump  in  the  throat,  and 
the  Queer  Little  Thing  seemed  to  read  the  message,  for 
the  ghost  of  an  answering  smile  flickered  in  the  brown 
depths  before  the  lids  dropped  over  them. 

When  study  hour  was  over  the  Youngest  Teacher 
moved  hastily  to  the  door,  with  some  vague  idea  of  fol- 
lowing up  the  successful  smile  and  establishing  diplomatic 
relations  with  the  new  girl ;  but  she  was  not  quick  enough. 
Bonita  had  slipped  into  the  hall  and  hurried  up  the  stairs 
toward  her  own  room. 

Shrugging  her  shoulders  Belinda  turned  toward  the 
door  of  Miss  Ryder's  study  and  knocked. 

"  Come  in." 

The  voice  was  not  encouraging.  Miss  Lucilla  objected 
to  interruptions  in  the  late  evening  hours,  when  she  re- 
laxed from  immaculately  fitted  black  silk  to  the  undigni- 
fied folds  of  a  violet  dressing-gown. 

When  she  recognised  the  intruder  she  thawed  per- 
ceptibly. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Carewe.  Come  in.  Nothing  wrong,  is 
there?" 

Belinda  dropped  into  a  chair  with  a  whimsical  little 
sigh. 


138  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  Nothing  wrong  except  my  curiosity.  Miss  Ryder,  do 
tell  me  something  about  that  Allen  child." 

Miss  Lucilla  eyed  her  subordinate  questioningly. 

"  What  has  she  been  doing?  " 

"  Nothing  at  all.  I  wish  she  would  do  something.  It's 
what  she  doesn't  do,  and  looks  capable  of  doing,  that 
bothers  me.  There's  simply  no  getting  at  her.  She's 
from  Texas,  isn't  she  ?  " 

The  principal  regarded  attentively  one  of  the  grapes 
she  was  eating,  and  there- was  an  interval  of  silence. 

"  She  is  a  queer  little  thing,"  Miss  Lucilla  admitted  at 
last.  "  Yes,  she's  from  Texas,  but  that's  no  reason  why 
she  should  be  odd.  We've  had  a  number  of  young  ladies 
from  Texas,  and  they  were  quite  like  other  schoolgirls 
only  more  so.  Just  between  you  and  me,  Miss  Carewe, 
I  think  it  must  be  the  child's  Indian  blood  that  makes  her 
seem  different." 

"  Indian  ?  "  Belinda  sat  up,  sniffing  romance  in  the  air. 

"Yes,  her  father  mentioned  the  strain  quite  casually 
when  he  wrote.  It's  rather  far  back  in  the  family,  but 
he  seemed  to  think  it  might  account  for  the  girl's  intense 
love  for  Nature  and  dislike  of  conventions.  Mrs.  Allen 
died  when  the  baby  was  born,  and  the  father  has  brought 
the  child  up  on  a  ranch.  He's  completely  wrapped  up  in 
her,  but  he  finally  realised  that  she  needed  to  be  with 
women.  He's  worth  several  millions,  and  he  wants  to 


THE    QUEER   LITTLE    THING  139 

educate  her  so  that  she'll  enjoy  the  money — '  be  a  fine 
lady/  as  he  puts  it.  I  confess  his  description  of  the  girl 
disturbed  me  at  first,  but  he  was  so  liberal  in  regard  to 
terms  that " 

Miss  Lucilla  left  the  sentence  in  the  air  and  medita- 
tively ate  another  bunch  of  grapes. 

"  Did  her  father  come  up  with  her  ?  "  Belinda  asked. 

"  No ;  he  sent  her  with  friends  who  happened  to  be 
coming — a  highly  respectable  couple,  but  breezy,  very 
breezy.  They  told  me  that  Bonita  could  ride  any  bronco 
on  the  ranch  and  could  shoot  a  Jack-rabbit  on  the  run. 
They  seemed  to  think  she  would  be  a  great  addition  to 
our  school  circle  on  that  account.  Personally  I'm  much 
relieved  to  find  her  so  tractable  and  quiet,  but  I've  noticed 
something — well — er — unusual  about  her." 

As  Belinda  went  up  to  bed  she  met  a  slim  little  figure 
in  a  barbaric  red  and  yellow  dressing-gown  crossing  the 
hall.  There  was  a  shy  challenge  in  the  serious  child  face, 
although  the  little  feet,  clad  in  soft,  beaded  moccasins, 
quickened  their  steps;  and  Belinda  answered  the  furtive 
friendliness  by  slipping  an  arm  around  the  girl's  waist 
and  drawing  her  into  the  tiny  hall  bedroom. 

"  You  haven't  been  to  see  me.  It's  one  of  the  rules  of 
the  school  that  every  girl  shall  have  a  cup  of  cocoa  with 
me  before  she  has  been  here  three  evenings,"  she  said 
laughingly. 


i4o  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

The  Queer  Little  Thing  accepted  the  overture  soberly, 
and,  curled  up  in  the  one  big  chair,  watched  the 
Youngest  Teacher  in  silence. 

The  cocoa  was  soon  under  way.  Then  the  hostess 
turned  and  smiled  frankly  at  her  guest.  Belinda's  smile 
is  a  reassuring  thing. 

"  Homesick  business,  isn't  it  ?  "  she  said  abruptly,  with 
a  warm  note  of  comradeship  in  her  voice. 

The  tense  little  figure  in  the  big  chair  leaned  forward 
with  sudden,  swift  confidence. 

"  I'm  going  home,"  announced  Bonita  in  a  tone  that 
made  no  reservations. 

Belinda  received  the  news  without  the  quiver  of  an 
eyelash  or  a  sign  of  incredulity. 

"  When  ?  "  she  asked  with  interest  warm  enough  to  in- 
vite confession  and  not  emphatic  enough  to  rouse  distrust. 

"  I  don't  know  just  when,  but  I  have  to  go.  I  can't 
stand  it,  and  I've  written  to  Daddy.  He'll  understand. 
Nobody  here  knows.  They're  all  used  to  it.  They've 
always  lived  in  houses  like  this,  with  little  back  yards  that 
have  high  walls  around  them,  and  sidewalks  and  streets 
right  outside  the  front  windows,  and  crowds  of  strange 
people  going  by  all  the  time,  and  just  rules,  rules,  rules 
everywhere !  Everybody  has  so  many  manners,  and  they 
talk  about  things  I  don't  know  anything  about,  and  no- 
body would  understand  if  I  talked  about  the  real  things." 


THE    QUEER   LITTLE    THING  141 

"  Perhaps  I'd  understand  a  little  bit,"  murmured 
Belinda.  The  Queer  Little  Thing  put  out  one  brown 
hand  and  touched  the  Youngest  Teacher's  knee  gently 
in  a  shy,  caressing  fashion. 

"  No,  you  wouldn't  understand,  because  you  don't 
know;  but  you  could  learn.  The  others  couldn't.  The 
prairie  wouldn't  talk  to  them  and  they'd  be  lonesome — 
the  way  I  am  here.  Dick  says  you  have  to  learn  the 
language  when  you  are  little,  or  else  have  a  gift  for  such 
languages,  but  that  when  you've  once  learned  it  you  don't 
care  to  hear  any  other." 

"  Who's  Dick?  "  Belinda  asked. 

"  Dick  ?  Oh,  he's  just  Dick.  He  taught  me  to  ride  and 
to  shoot,  and  he  used  to  read  poetry  to  me,  and  he  told 
me  stories  about  everything.  He  used  to  go  to  a  big 
school  called  Harvard,  but  he  was  lonesome  there — the 
way  I  am  here." 

"  The  way  I  am  here  "  dropped  into  the  talk  like  a 
persistent  refrain,  and  there  was  heartache  in  it. 

"  I  want  to  go  home,"  the  child  went  on.  Now  that  the 
dam  of  silence  was  down  the  pent-up  feeling  rushed  out 
tumultuously.  "  I  want  to  see  Daddy  and  the  boys  and 
the  horses  and  the  cattle,  and  I  want  to  watch  the  sun 
go  down  over  the  edge  of  the  world,  not  just  tumble 
down  among  the  dirty  houses,  and  I  want  to  gallop  over 
the  prairie  where  there  aren't  any  roads,  and  smell  the 


i42  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

grass  and  watch  the  birds  and  the  sky.  You  ought  to  see 
the  sky  down  there  at  night,  Miss  Carewe.  It's  so  big 
and  black  and  soft  and  full  of  bright  stars,  and  you  can 
see  clear  to  where  it  touches  the  ground  all  around  you, 
and  there's  a  night  breeze  that's  as  cool  as  cool,  and  the 
boys  all  play  their  banjos  and  guitars  and  sing,  and  Daddy 
and  I  sit  over  on  our  veranda  and  listen.  There's  only  a 
little  narrow  strip  of  sky  with  two  or  three  stars  in  it 
out  of  my  window  here,  and  it's  so  noisy  and  cluttered 
out  in  the  back  yards — and  I  hate  walking  in  a  procession 
on  the  ugly  old  streets,  and  doing  things  when  bells  ring. 
I  hate  it!  I  hate  it!" 

Her  voice  hadn't  risen  at  all,  had  only  grown  more  and 
more  vibrant  with  passionate  rebellion.  The  sharp  little 
face  was  drawn  and  pale,  but  there  were  no  tears  in  the 
big,  tragic  eyes. 

Belinda  had  consoled  many  homesick  girls,  but  this 
was  a  different  problem. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  she  said  softly.  "  Don't  you  think  it  will 
be  easier  after  a  while  ?  " 

The  small  girl  with  the  old  face  shook  her  head. 

"  No,  it  won't.  It  isn't  in  me  to  like  all  this.  I'm  so 
sorry,  because  Daddy  wants  me  to  be  a  lady.  He  said 
it  was  as  hard  for  him  to  send  me  as  it  was  for  me  to 
come,  but  that  I  couldn't  learn  to  be  a  lady,  with  lots  of 
money  to  spend,  down  there  with  only  the  boys  and  him. 


THE    QUEER   LITTLE    THING  143 

There  wasn't  any  lady  there  on  the  ranch  at  all,  except 
Mammy  Lou,  the  cook,  and  she  didn't  have  lots  of  money 
to  spend,  so  she  wasn't  the  kind  he  meant.  I  thought 
I'd  come  and  try,  but  I  didn't  know  it  would  be  like  this. 
I  don't  want  to  be  a  lady,  Miss  Carewe.  I  don't  believe 
they  can  be  very  happy.  I've  seen  them  in  the  carriages 
and  they  don't  look  very  happy.  You're  nice.  I  like  you, 
and  I'm  most  sure  Daddy  and  Dick  and  the  boys  would 
like  you,  but  then  you  haven't  got  lots  of  money,  have 
you  ?  And  you  were  born  up  here,  so  you  don't  know  any 
better,  anyway.  I'm  going  home." 

The  burst  of  confidence  ended  where  it  had  begun. 
She  was  going  home,  and  she  was  so  firm  in  the  faith  that 
Belinda,  listening,  believed  her. 

"  But  if  your  father  says  no  ?  " 

The  dark  little  face  was  quiet  again,  all  save  the  great 
eyes. 

"  I'll  have  to  go,"  said  the  Queer  Little  Thing  slowly. 

Four  days  later  Miss  Lucilla  Ryder  called  the  Youngest 
Teacher  into  the  study. 

"  Miss  Carewe,  I'm  puzzled  about  this  little  Miss  Allen. 
I  had  a  letter  from  her  father  this  morning.  He  says  she 
has  written  that  she  is  very  homesick  and  unhappy  and 
doesn't  want  to  stay.  He  feels  badly  about  it,  of  course, 
but  he  very  wisely  leaves  the  matter  in  our  hands — says 
he  realises  she'll  have  to  be  homesick  and  he'll  have  to 


144  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

be  lonesome  if  she's  to  be  made  a  lady.  But  he  wants 
us  to  do  all  we  can  to  make  her  contented.  He  very 
generously  sends  a  check  for  five  hundred  dollars,  which 
we  are  to  use  for  any  extra  expense  incurred  in  enter- 
taining her  and  making  her  happy.  Now  I  thought  you 
might  take  her  to  the  theatre  and  the  art  museum,  and  the 
— a — the  aquarium,  and  introduce  her  to  the  pleasures  and 
advantages  of  city  life.  She'll  soon  be  all  right." 

With  sinking  heart  Belinda  went  in  search  of  the  girl. 
She  found  her  practising  five-finger  exercises  drearily  in 
one  of  the  music-rooms.  As  Belinda  entered  the  child 
looked  up  and  met  the  friendly,  sympathetic  eyes.  A 
mute  appeal  sprang  into  her  own  eyes,  and  Belinda  under- 
stood. The  thing  was  too  bad  to  be  talked  about,  and  the 
Youngest  Teacher  said  no  word  about  the  homesickness 
or  the  expected  letter.  In  this  way  she  clinched  her 
friendship  with  the  Queer  Little  Thing. 

But,  following  the  principal's  orders,  she  endeavoured 
to  demonstrate  to  Bonita  the  joy  and  blessedness  of  life  in 
New  York.  The  child  went  quietly  wherever  she  was 
taken — a  mute,  pathetic  little  figure  to  whom  the  aquarium 
fish  and  the  Old  Masters  and  the  latest  matinee  idol  were 
all  one — and  unimportant.  The  other  girls  envied  her  her 
privileges  and  her  pocket-money,  but  they  did  not  under- 
stand. No  one  understood  save  Belinda,  and  she  did  her 
cheerful  best  to  blot  out  old  loves  with  new  impressions ; 


THE    QUEER   LITTLE    THING  145 

but  from  the  first  she  felt  in  her  heart  that  she  was  elected 
to  failure.  The  child  was  fond  of  her,  always  respectful, 
always  docile,  always  grave.  Nothing  brought  a  light 
into  her  eyes  or  a  spontaneous  smile  to  her  lips.  Anyone 
save  Belinda  would  have  grown  impatient,  angry.  She 
only  grew  more  tender — and  more  troubled.  Day  by  day 
she  watched  the  sad  little  face  grow  thinner.  It  was 
pale  now,  intead  of  brown,  and  the  high  cheekbones 
were  strikingly  prominent.  The  lips  pressed  closely  to- 
gether drooped  plaintively  at  the  corners,  and  the  big  eyes 
were  more  full  of  shadow  than  ever;  but  the  child 
made  no  protest  nor  plea,  and  by  tacit  consent  she  and 
Belinda  ignored  their  first  conversation  and  never  men- 
tioned Texas. 

Often  Belinda  made  up  her  mind  to  put  aside  the  re- 
straint and  talk  freely  as  she  would  to  any  other  girl, 
but  there  was  something  about  the  little  Texan  that  for- 
bade liberties,  warned  off  intruders,  and  the  Youngest 
Teacher  feared  losing  what  little  ground  she  had  gained. 

Finally  she  went  in  despair  to  Miss  Ryder. 

"  The  Indian  character  is  too  much  for  me,"  she  con- 
fessed with  a  groan  half  humorous,  half  earnest.  "  I  give 
it  up."  ' 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  asked  Miss  Ryder. 

"  Well,  I've  dragged  poor  Bonita  Allen  all  over  the 
borough  of  Manhattan  and  the  Bronx  and  spent  many 


146  CONCERNING    BELINDA 

ducats  in  the  process.  She  has  been  very  polite  about  it, 
but  just  as  sad  over  Sherry's  tea  hour  as  over  Grant's 
tomb,  and  just  as  cheerful  over  the  Cesnola  collection  as 
over  the  monkey  cage  at  the  Zoo.  The  poor  little  thing  is 
so  unhappy  and  miserable  that  she  looks  like  a  wild  animal 
in  a  trap,  and  I  think  the  best  thing  we  can  do  with  her 
is  to  send  her  home." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Miss  Lucilla.  "  Her  father  is  pay- 
ing eighteen  hundred  dollars  a  year." 

Belinda  was  defiant. 

"  I  don't  care.    He  ought  to  take  her  home." 

"  Miss  Carewe,  you  are  sentimentalising.  One  would 
think  you  had  never  seen  a  homesick  girl  before." 

"  She's  different  from  other  girls." 

"  I'll  talk  with  her  myself,"  said  Miss  Lucilla  sternly. 

She  did,  but  the  situation  remained  unchanged,  and 
when  she  next  mentioned  the  Texan  problem  to  Belinda, 
Miss  Lucilla  was  less  positive  in  her  views. 

"  She's  a  very  strange  child,  but  we  must  do  what  we 
can  to  carry  out  her  father's  wishes." 

"  I'd  send  her  home,"  said  Belinda. 

It  was  shortly  after  this  that  Katharine  Holland,  who 
sat  beside  Bonita  at  the  table,  confided  to  Belinda  that 
that  funny  little  Allen  girl  didn't  eat  a  thing.  The  wait- 
ress came  to  Belinda  with  the  same  tale,  and  the  Youngest 
Teacher  sought  out  Bonita  and  reasoned  with  her. 


THE   QUEER   LITTLE   THING  147 

"  You  really  must  eat,  my  dear,"  she  urged. 

"Why?" 

"  Why,  you'll  be  ill  if  you  don't." 

"How  soon?" 

Belinda  looked  dazed. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  don't  understand." 

"  How  soon  will  I  be  sick  ?  " 

"  Very  soon,  I'm  afraid,"  the  puzzled  teacher  answered. 

"  That's  good.  I  don't  feel  as  if  I  could  wait  much 
longer." 

Belinda  gasped. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  want  to  be  ill  ?  " 

"  If  I  get  very  sick  Daddy  will  come  for  me." 

The  teacher  looked  helplessly  at  the  quiet,  great-eyed 
child,  then  launched  into  expostulation,  argument,  en- 
treaty. 

Bonita  listened  politely  and  was  profoundly  unim- 
pressed. 

"  It's  wicked,  dear  child.  It  would  make  your  father 
wretchedly  unhappy." 

"  He'd  be  awfully  unhappy  if  he  understood,  anyway. 
He  thinks  I'm  not  really  unhappy  and  that  it's  his  duty 
to  keep  me  up  here  and  make  a  lady  of  me,  no  matter 
how  lonely  he  is  without  me.  He  wrote  me  so — but  I 
know  he'd  be  terribly  glad  if  he  had  a  real  excuse  for  tak- 
ing me  home." 


148  CONCERNING    BELINDA 

Belinda  exhausted  her  own  resources  and  appealed  to 
Miss  Lucilla,  who  stared  incredulously  over  her  nose- 
glasses  and  sent  for  Bonita. 

After  the  interview  she  called  for  the  Youngest 
Teacher,  and  the  two  failures  looked  at  each  other  help- 
lessly. 

"  It's  an  extraordinary  thing,"  said  Miss  Lucilla  in  her 
most  magisterial  tone — "  a  most  extraordinary  thing.  In 
all  my  experience  I've  seen  nothing  like  it.  Nothing 
seems  to  make  the  slightest  impression  upon  the  child. 
She's  positively  crazy." 

"  You  will  tell  her  father  to  send  for  her,  won't  you  ?  " 

Miss  Lucilla  shook  her  head  stubbornly. 

"  Not  at  all.  It  would  be  the  ruination  of  the  child  to 
give  in  to  her  whims  and  bad  temper  now.  If  she  won't 
listen  to  reason  she  must  be  allowed  to  pay  for  her  foolish- 
ness. When  she  gets  hungry  enough  she  will  eat.  It's 
absurd  to  talk  about  a  child  of  twelve  having  the  stoicism 
to  starve  herself  into  an  illness  just  because  she  is  home- 
sick at  boarding-school." 

Belinda  came  back  to  her  threadworn  argument. 

"  But  Bonita  is  different,  Miss  Ryder." 

"  She's  a  very  stubborn,  selfish  child,"  said  Miss  Ryder 
resentfully,  and  turning  to  her  desk  she  closed  the  conver- 
sation. 

Despite  discipline,  despite  pleadings,  despite  cajolery, 


THE    QUEER   LITTLE    THING  149 

Bonita  stood  firm.  Eat  she  would  not,  and  when,  on  her 
way  to  class  one  morning,  the  scrap  of  humanity  with  the 
set  lips  and  the  purple  shadows  round  her  eyes  fainted 
quietly,  Belinda  felt  that  a  masterly  inactivity  had  ceased 
to  be  a  virtue. 

James,  the  house  man,  carried  the  girl  upstairs,  and  the 
Youngest  Teacher  put  her  to  bed,  where  she  opened  her 
eyes  to  look  unseeingly  at  Belinda  and  then  closed  them 
wearily  and  lay  quite  still,  a  limp  little  creature  whose 
pale  face  looked  pitifully  thin  and  lifeless  against  the 
white  pillow.  The  Queer  Little  Thing's  wish  had  been 
fulfilled,  and  illness  had  come  without  long  delay. 

For  a  moment  Belinda  looked  down  at  the  girl.  Then 
she  turned  and  went  swiftly  to  Miss  Ryder's  study,  her 
eyes  blazing,  her  mouth  so  stern  that  Amelia  Bowers,  who 
met  her  on  the  stairs,  hurried  to  spread  the  news  that  Miss 
Carewe  was  "  perfectly  hopping  mad  about  something." 

Once  in  the  presence  of  the  August  One  the  little 
teacher  lost  no  time  in  parley. 

"  Miss  Ryder,"  she  said  crisply — and  at  the  tone  her 
employer  looked  up  in  amazement — "  I've  told  you  about 
Bonita  Allen.  I've  been  to  you  again  and  again  about 
her.  You  knew  that  she  was  fretting  her  heart  out  and 
half  sick,  and  then  you  knew  that  for  several  days  she 
hasn't  been  eating  a  thing.  I  tried  to  make  you  under- 
stand that  the  matter  was  serious  and  that  something  radi- 


iso  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

cal  needed  to  be  done,  but  you  insisted  that  the  child 
would  come  around  all  right  and  that  we  mustn't  give  in 
to  her.  I  begged  you  to  send  for  her  father  and  you  said 
it  wasn't  necessary.  I'm  here  to  take  your  orders,  Miss 
Ryder,  but  I  can't  stand  this  sort  of  thing.  I  know  the 
girl  better  than  any  of  the  rest  of  you  do,  and  I  know  it 
isn't  badness  that  makes  her  act  so.  She's  different,  queer, 
capable  of  feeling  things  the  ordinary  girl  doesn't  know. 
She  isn't  made  for  this  life.  There's  something  in  her 
that  can't  endure  it.  She's  frantic  with  homesickness, 
and  it's  perfectly  useless  to  try  to  keep  her  here  or  make 
her  like  other  girls.  Now  she's  ill — really  ill.  I've  just 
put  her  to  bed,  and,  honestly,  Miss  Ryder,  if  we  don't 
send  for  her  father  we'll  have  a  tragedy  on  our  hands.  It 
sounds  foolish,  but  it's  true.  If  nobody  else  telegraphs  to 
Mr.  Allen  I'm  going  to  do  it." 

The  gauntlet  was  down.  The  defiance  was  hurled,  and 
as  Belinda  stood  waiting  for  the  crash  she  mentally 
figured  out  the  amount  of  money  needed  for  her  ticket 
home ;  but  Miss  Ryder  was  alarmed,  and  in  the  spasm  of 
alarm  she  quite  overlooked  the  mutiny. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Miss  Carewe.  This  will  never  do,  never 
do,"  she  said  uncertainly.  "  It  would  sound  so  very 
badly  if  it  got  out — a  pupil  so  unhappy  with  us  that  she 
starved  herself  into  an  illness.  Oh,  no,  it  would  never  do. 
We  must  take  steps  at  once.  I  wish  the  child  had  stayed 


THE    QUEER   LITTLE    THING  151 

in  Texas — but  who  could  have  foreseen — and  eighteen 
hundred  dollars  is  such  an  excellent  rate.  I  do  dislike  ex- 
ceptions. Rules  are  so  much  more  satisfactory.  Now  as 
a  rule " 

"  She's  an  exception,"  interrupted  Belinda.  "  I'll  tele- 
phone for  the  doctor  while  you  are  writing  the  telegram." 

"  Oh,  no,  not  the  doctor.  He  wouldn't  understand  the 
conditions,  and  he  might  talk  and  create  a  false  impres- 
sion." 

"  I'll  manage  all  that,"  Belinda  assured  her  soothingly. 
Miss  Lucilla  Ryder  in  a  panic  was  a  new  experience. 

When  the  doctor  came  there  were  bright  red  spots  on 
the  Queer  Little  Thing's  cheeks  and  she  was  babbling  in- 
coherently about  prairie  flowers  and  horses  and  Dick  and 
Daddy. 

"  Nerve  strain,  lack  of  nourishment,  close  confinement 
after  an  outdoor  life,"  said  the  doctor  gravely.  "  I'm 
afraid  she's  going  to  be  pretty  sick,  but  beef  broth  and  this 
Daddy  and  a  hope  of  homegoing  will  do  more  for  her 
than  medicine.  Miss  Ryder  has  made  a  mistake  here, 
Miss  Carewe." 

Meanwhile  a  telegram  had  gone  to  Daddy,  and  the  mes- 
senger who  delivered  it  heard  a  volume  of  picturesque 
comment  that  was  startling  even  on  a  Texas  ranch. 

"  Am  coming,"  ran  the  answering  dispatch  received  by 
Miss  Ryder  that  night ;  but  it  was  not  until  morning  that 
Bonita  was  able  to  understand  the  news. 


152  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  He's  scared,  but  I  know  he's  glad,"  she  said,  and  she 
swallowed  without  a  murmur  the  broth  against  which 
even  in  her  delirium  she  had  fought. 

One  evening,  three  days  later,  a  hansom  dashed  up  to 
the  school  and  out  jumped  a  tall,  square-shouldered  man 
in  a  wide-brimmed  hat,  and  clothes  that  bore  only  a  family 
resemblance  to  the  clothing  of  New  York  millionaires, 
though  they  were  good  clothes  in  their  own  free-and- 
easy  way. 

A  loud,  hearty  voice  inquiring  for  "  My  baby  "  made 
itself  heard  even  in  the  sick-room,  and  a  sudden  light 
flashed  into  the  little  patient's  eyes — a  light  that  was  an 
illumination  and  a  revelation. 

"  Daddy !  "  she  said  weakly ;  and  the  word  was  a  heart- 
throb. 

Mr.  Allen  wasted  no  time  in  a  polite  interview  with 
Miss  Ryder.  Hypnotised  by  his  masterfulness,  the  ser- 
vant led  him  directly  up  to  the  sick-room  and  opened  the 
door. 

The  man  filled  the  room,  a  high  breeze  seemed  to  come 
with  him,  and  vitality  flowed  from  him  in  tangible  waves. 
Belinda  smiled,  but  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes,  for  the 
big  man's  heart  was  in  his  face. 

"Baby!" 

"Daddy!" 

Belinda  remembered  an  errand  downstairs, 


THE    QUEER   LITTLE    THING  153 

When  she  returned  the  big  Texan  was  sitting  on  the 
side  of  the  bed  with  both  the  lean  little  hands  in  one  of 
his  big,  brawny  ones,  while  his  other  hand  awkwardly 
smoothed  the  straight,  black  hair. 

"  When  will  you  take  me  home,  Daddy  ? "  said  the 
child  with  the  shining  eyes. 

"  As  soon  as  you're  strong  enough,  Honey.  The  boys 
wanted  me  to  let  them  charge  New  York  in  a  bunch  and 
get  you.  It's  been  mighty  lonesome  on  that  ranch.  I 
wish  to  Heaven  I'd  never  been  fool  enough  to  let  you 
come  away." 

He  turned  to  Belinda  with  a  quizzical  smile  sitting 
oddly  on  his  anxious  face. 

"  I  reckon  she  might  as  well  go,  miss.  I  sent  her  to  a 
finishing  school,  and,  by  thunder,  she's  just  about  fin- 
ished." 

There  was  a  certain  hint  of  pride  in  his  voice  as  he 
added  reflectively: 

"  I  might  have  known  if  she  said  she'd  have  to  come 
home  she  meant  it.  Harder  to  change  her  mind  than  to 
bust  any  bronco  I  ever  tackled.  Queer  little  thing,  Baby 
is." 


A   CONTINUOUS   PERFORMANCE 


CHAPTER   IX 

A    CONTINUOUS    PERFORMANCE 

BELINDA  paused  in  the  doorway  of  the  Primary 
School  room,  which  adjoined  her  bedroom,  and 
stared  in  amazement  at  the  five  scribes. 

The  girls  were  absorbed  in  their  writing,  but  the 
Youngest  Teacher  was  reasonably  certain  that  a  fine 
frenzy  of  studiousness  was  not  the  explanation  of  the 
phenomenon.  When  had  Amelia  and  her  "  set "  ever  de- 
voted recreation  hour  to  voluntary  study  ? 

Suddenly  Amelia  put  down  her  pen,  sat  back  in  her 
chair  and  spoke. 

"  I  simply  will  not  have  Aunt  Ellen  ride  in  the  third 
carriage.  So  there!  She'll  think  she  ought  to  because 
she's  one  of  the  nearest  relatives,  but  I  can't  bear  her, 
and  I  don't  care  whether  she  goes  to  the  funeral  at  all. 
I'd  a  good  deal  rather  put  May  Morton  in  with  cousin 
Jennie,  and  cousin  Sue,  and  Uncle  Will." 

"  It'll  make  an  awful  fuss  in  the  family,"  protested 
Laura  May,  while  all  the  girls  stopped  writing  to  con- 
sider the  problem. 

"  I  don't  care  if  it  does,"  said  Amelia  stoutly. 


158  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  Blanche  White  put  in,  nibbling 
the  end  of  her  pen  reflectively.  "  Seems  as  if  everything 
ought  to  be  sort  of  sweet  and  solemn  and  Christian  at  a 
time  like  that." 

"  Christian  nothing !  "  Opposition  only  strengthened 
Amelia's  opinion. 

"  I'd  like  to  know  whose  funeral  it  is  anyhow !  If 
you  can't  have  your  way  about  your  own  funeral  it's  a 
funny  thing.  I  never  did  like  Aunt  Ellen.  She's  always 
telling  tales  on  me  and  saying  that  Mamma  lets  me  have 
too  much  freedom,  and  talking  about  the  way  girls  were 
brought  up  when  she  was  young.  Mamma  makes  me  be 
nice  to  her  because  she's  papa's  sister,  but  when  I'm  dead 
I  can  be  honest  about  her — and  anyway  if  there's  a  family 
fuss  about  it,  I'll  be  out  of  it.  I'm  not  going  to  plan  any 
place  at  all  for  Aunt  Ellen  in  the  carriages." 

"  Your  father'll  put  her  in  with  the  rest  of  the  family." 

"  No,  he  won't — not  if  I  fill  every  single  seat  and  say 
that  it's  my  last  solemn  wish  that  people  should  ride  just 
that  way." 

"  For  charity's  sake,  girls,  tell  me  what  it  all  means," 
urged  Belinda,  seating  herself  at  one  of  the  small  desks 
and  eyeing  the  sheets  of  paper  covered  with  schoolgirl 
hieroglyphics. 

"  We're  writing  our  wills,  Miss  Carewe,"  said  Amelia 
with  due  solemnity. 


A    CONTINUOUS   PERFORMANCE         159 

"Your  wills?" 

"Yes;  I  think  everybody  ought  to  do  it,  don't  you? 
I  told  the  girls  we  all  had  things  we'd  like  to  leave  to  cer- 
tain people,  and  of  course  we  want  our  funerals  arranged 
to  suit  us,  and  there's  no  telling  when  anybody  may  die. 
It  seems  to  me  it's  right  to  be  prepared  even  if  we  are 
young." 

The  five  looked  preternaturally  solemn,  and  Belinda 
wrestled  triumphantly  with  her  mirth.  Much  of  her  suc- 
cess with  the  girls  was  due  to  the  fact  that  she  usually 
met  their  vagaries  with  outward  seriousness,  if  with  in- 
ward glee. 

"  Now,  there's  my  diamond  ring,"  Amelia  went  on. 
"  I  want  Laura  May  to  have  it,  and  I'm  perfectly  sure 
they'd  give  it  to  Cousin  Sue ;  so  I'm  going  to  say,  in  my 
will,  that  it's  for  Laura  May,  and  she's  going  to  will  me 
her  turquoise  bracelet.  She'd  like  to  give  me  her  sapphire 
and  diamond  ring,  but  she  thinks  her  sister  would  expect 
that,  and  that  all  the  family  would  think  she  ought  to  have 
it.  Of  course  she  can  do  as  she  likes,  but,  as  for  me,  I 
think  when  you  are  making  your  will  is  the  time  to  be 
perfectly  independent.  I'm  leaving  Blanche  my  chatelaine 
and  my  La  Valliere,  and  I  don't  care  what  anybody  thinks 
about  it." 

"  Is  there  anything  of  mine  you'd  like  to  have,  Miss 
Carewe  ?  "  Kittie  Dayton  asked  with  a  benevolent  air. 


160  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  I'd  just  love  to  leave  you  something  nice,  but  I've 
given  away  most  everything — that  is,  I've  willed  it  away. 
Would  you  care  about  my  pigskin  portfolio  ?  It's  awfully 
swell,  and  Uncle  Jack  paid  fifteen  dollars  for  it.  I  know 
because  I  went  to  the  shop  the  next  day  and  priced  them 
— but  I  upset  the  ink  bottle  over  it  twice,  so  it  isn't  so  very 
fresh." 

"  I'd  love  to  have  it,"  said  Belinda. 

"  I've  got  you  down  for  my  fan  with  the  inlaid  pearl 
sticks,"  announced  Amelia,  with  a  dubious  tilt  of  her 
curly  head,  "  but  I  don't  know.  It  came  from  Paris,  but 
one  of  the  sticks  is  broken.  Of  course  it  can  be  mended, 
but  I  kind  of  think  I'd  like  to  leave  you  something  whole, 
and  I  can  give  the  fan  to  one  of  my  cousins.  I've  got  a 
perfect  raft  of  cousins  and  they  can't  all  expect  to  have 
whole  things.  There's  my  gold  bonboniere.  I  might 
leave  you  that.  Anyway,  I've  put  you  in  the  second  car- 
riage." 

"  The  second  carriage  ?  "  Belinda  looked  puzzled. 

"  Yes,  at  the  funeral,  you  know.  I  want  you  to  be 
right  with  the  family.  You  see  there's  Papa  and  Mamma 
and  my  brother  and  George  Pettingill  in  the  first  car- 
riage." 

The  Youngest  Teacher  gasped. 

"  George  Pettingill  ?  "  she  echoed  weakly. 

"  Yes ;  I  know  everybody'll  be  surprised.     They  don't 


A    CONTINUOUS  PERFORMANCE        161 

know  we're  engaged.  It  only  happened  last  week.  That's 
one  reason  why  I  had  to  change  my  will.  You  see  I  was 
engaged  to  Harvey  Porter  before  Christmas,  and  of 
course  I  put  him  in  the  first  carriage.  Mamma  and 
Papa'd  have  been  surprised  about  him  too ;  but  when  it 
was  my  last  will  and  testament,  they  couldn't  have  had 
the  heart  to  object  to  his  riding  with  them.  I  couldn't  die 
happy  if  I  thought  George  wouldn't  ride  in  the  first  car- 
riage. Poor  fellow !  He'll  be  perfectly  broken-hearted." 

Amelia  sniffed  audibly  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
She  was  revelling  in  the  luxury  of  woe. 

"  I  hope  it  will  be  a  cloudy  day,"  she  said  in  a  choked 
voice.  "  A  cloudy  day  always  seems  so  much  more  poetic 
and  appropriate  for  a  funeral.  Oh,  but  I  was  going  to  tell 
you  about  the  other  carriages.  Uncle  Joe  and  Aunt  Mary 
and  Cousin  Dick — he's  my  favourite  cousin — and  you  will 
be  in  the  second  carriage;  and  then  the  other  relatives 
will  be  in  the  other  carriages — all  except  Aunt  Ellen. 
When  I  was  home  for  Christmas,  she  told  Mamma,  right 
before  me,  that  I  was  a  sentimental  chit,  and  that  I  ran 
after  Harvey  Porter.  As  if  everybody  couldn't  see  that 
Harvey  was  crazy  over  me  and  that  I  didn't  have  to  run  a 
step!" 

"  Don't  you  think  I'd  be  out  of  place  ahead  of  so  many 
of  the  relatives  ?  "  Belinda  inquired  modestly. 

"  Oh,  no ;  not  a  bit.    We  girls  talked  it  over  and  we 


1 62  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

decided  we'd  all  put  you  in  the  second  carriages.  Blanche 
says  she  thinks  there's  a  peculiarly  intimate  tie  between 
a  young  girl  and  the  teacher  who  moulds  her  mind  and 
character,  and  you're  the  only  one  who  has  moulded  us 
a  bit — and  then  we  all  simply  adore  you,  anyway." 

The  Youngest  Teacher  bowed  her  head  upon  her  hands 
as  if  overcome  by  emotion  at  the  success  of  her  moulding 
process  or  at  the  prospect  of  five  free  rides  in  second  car- 
riages, and  her  shoulders  shook  gently. 

"  We've  talked  a  lot  about  our  funerals,  and  I've  got 
mine  all  arranged,  even  the  hymns,"  continued  Amelia, 
who  was  always  spokesman  for  her  crowd.  "  I'm  going 
to  be  buried  in  the  white  chiffon  dress  I  wore  at  the  New 
Year's  dance  and  with  that  big  bunch  of  pink  roses  on 
my  breast — the  dried  bunch  in  my  green  hatbox.  I  met 
George  at  that  dance  and  he  gave  me  the  roses.  I  was 
going  to  wear  my  blue  silk  in  my  last  will.  Harvey 
loved  light  blue,  but,  anyway,  white's  more  appropriate 
and  sweet,  don't  you  think  so  ?  " 

The  Youngest  Teacher  was  driven,  by  a  sense  of  duty, 
to  extinguish  her  mirth  and  remonstrate. 

"  Do  you  know,  girls,  I  think  this  is  all  very  foolish  and 
sentimental,"  she  said  sternly.  "  There's  no  probability 
of  your  dying  within  fifty  years." 

"  Well,  it  won't  do  any  harm  to  be  prepared,"  inter- 
rupted Amelia. 


A    CONTINUOUS   PERFORMANCE        163 

"  It's  absolutely  silly  and  morbid  to  sit  down  and  de- 
liberately work  yourselves  into  a  green  and  yellow  melan- 
choly by  thinking  about  your  deaths  and  your  funerals. 
I'm  disgusted  with  you." 

"  But,  Miss  Carewe  " — Laura  May's  voice  was  plain- 
tive— "  the  Bible  says  you  ought  to  think  about  dying,  and 
only  last  Sunday  the  rector  said  we  were  too  indifferent 
and  that  we  ought  to  realise  how  uncertain  life  is  and 
make  some  preparation,  instead  of  just  going  to  dances, 
and  card  parties,  and  eating,  and  drinking,  and  doing 
things  like  that." 

"  I  hope  you  don't  call  sickly  sentimentalising  over  the 
stage  effects  for  your  funerals  preparing  for  death.  If 
you'd  stop  thinking  about  your  silly  selves  altogether  and 
think  of  other  people,  you'd  come  nearer  preparing  for  the 
hereafter." 

Amelia's  plump  face  took  on  an  expression  of  pained 
surprise. 

"  Why,  Miss  Carewe,  you  don't  suppose  I'm  thinking 
about  the  chiffon  dress  and  the  roses  and  all  that  on  my 
own  account,  do  you?  I'd  be  so  dead  I  wouldn't  know 
anything  about  it ;  but  I  think  it  would  be  perfectly  sweet 
for  George.  He'd  know  I  had  planned  it  all  because  I 
was  so  devoted  to  him,  and  I  should  think  that  would  be 
a  great  comfort  to  him,  shouldn't  you,  Laura  May  ?  " 

Laura  May  agreed,  and  Belinda  shrugged  her  shoulders 


1 64  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

helplessly.  Serious  argument  was  always  wasted  upon 
this  light-headed  group  of  sentimentalists.  There  had 
been  a  time  when,  urged  on  by  conscience,  she  had  con- 
sidered it  necessary  to  labor  with  Amelia  about  her  light- 
ning-change affaires  de  cozur,  had  talked  to  her  as  she 
would  have  talked  to  an  ordinary,  reasonable  girl  about 
the  folly  and  cheapness  of  such  episodes,  had  tried  to  open 
her  eyes  to  the  fine  ideals  of  girlhood,  had  urged  upon  her 
the  desirability  of  perfect  frankness  and  confidence  in  her 
relations  with  her  mother  and  father. 

Amelia  had  only  opened  her  big  blue  eyes  wider  and 
listened  politely  but  uncomprehendingly  to  a  language  she 
could  not  understand.  She  adored  Miss  Carewe,  but  she 
realised  that  the  adored  one  had  the  failings  common  to 
aged  folk  and  lacked,  entirely,  any  understanding  of  love's 
young  dream. 

"  You'd  think  Miss  Carewe  wasn't  too  old  to  under- 
stand," she  said  to  Laura  May  later ;  "  but  perhaps  she's 
had  an  unfortunate  love  affair  that  has  made  her  bitter 
and  suspicious."  And,  out  of  the  softness  of  her  heart, 
she  forgave,  in  one  who  had  "  suffered,"  even  a  callous 
lack  of  sympathy  concerning  matters  of  the  affections. 

Belinda  took  her  failure  to  Miss  Ryder,  who  smiled  as 
she  listened. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Carewe,"  she  said,  when  the  tale  was 
ended,  "  you  are  right  in  being  conscientious,  but  you 


A    CONTINUOUS   PERFORMANCE        165 

mustn't  tilt  at  windmills.  There  are  girls  and  girls.  For- 
tunately, a  majority  of  them  are  amenable  to  reason, 
simple  minded  and  comparatively  sensible.  They  have 
had  wise  mothers  and  proper  home  training.  But  I've 
seen  a  great  many  girls  of  Amelia's  type,  too  far  advanced 
in  foolishness  before  they  come  to  us  to  be  straightened 
out  here.  They  pass  silly  girlhoods  and  usually  develop 
into  plump,  amiable  women,  devoted  to  husbands  and 
babies,  and  given  to  talking  about  servants  and  clothes 
when  they  don't  talk  about  the  husbands  and  babies.  We 
must  do  all  we  can  for  such  girls,  see  that  they  are  care- 
fully taught  and  zealously  guarded.  No  young  gentle- 
man calls  here  on  reception  night  unless  I  have  had  a  writ- 
ten permission  from  the  parents  of  the  girl  upon  whom 
he  calls ;  but  because  a  few  of  the  girls  are  silly,  I  will  not 
shut  the  sensible  girls  away  from  social  training. 

"  You  can  influence  the  Amelias — but  within  certain 
limitations.  As  for  making  them  see  things  in  the  sane 
way — the  thing  isn't  humanly  possible.  Do  your  best 
with  them,  but  don't  take  their  absurdities  too  seriously." 

In  time  Belinda  had  learned  that  her  employer's  phi- 
losophy was  wise,  though  it  did  not  altogether  agree 
with  certain  theories  set  forth  in  the  school  prospectus; 
so  the  funeral  problem  did  not  distress  her.  It  was  only 
one  phase  of  a  monumental  sentimentality  and  it  would 
pass  as  a  host  of  other  phases  quite  as  foolish  had  passed. 


1 66  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

The  girls  gathered  up  their  writing  materials  as  the 
retiring  bell  rang,  but  Amelia  lingered  for  a  private  word 
with  her  teacher. 

"  Miss  Carewe,"  she  said,  as  the  last  petticoat  whisked 
down  the  stairs,  "  I  wish  you'd  think  of  something  nice  to 
put  on  my  tombstone.  You  know  such  a  lot  about  poetry 
and  things  of  that  kind.  I've  thought  and  thought,  and  I 
went  through  a  whole  book  of  Bible  verses,  and  that 
Dictionary  of  Familiar  Quotations  down  in  the  library, 
but  I  couldn't  find  a  single  thing  that  really  suited  me — 
and  then  the  ones  I  did  like  best  seemed  sort  of  conceited 
for  me  to  pick  out.  Now,  if  you'd  select  something  nice 
and  pathetic  and  complimentary,  I  could  just  say,  in  my 
will,  that  you  wanted  me  to  have  that  epitaph  and  that  I 
had  promised  you  I  would." 

She  checked  her  eloquence,  and  waited  in  the  hall  until 
the  teacher  had  turned  out  the  school-room  lights  and 
joined  her;  then  the  tide  of  prattle  swept  on. 

"  Do  you  know,  Miss  Carewe,  I'd  simply  love  to  be 
buried  in  that  Protestant  cemetery  in  Rome — the  one 
where  Sheets  and  Kelly  are  buried." 

"  Keats  and  Shelley,"  corrected  the  teacher  of  English 
literature,  with  lively  horror  written  on  her  face. 

"  Oh,  was  it  that  way  ?  Well,  anyway,  the  men  who 
wrote  Deserted  Village  and  Childe  Harold  and  the  other 
things.  You  told  us  all  about  the  graveyard  in  litera- 


A    CONTINUOUS   PERFORMANCE        167 

ture  class,  and  it  sounded  so  perfectly  lovely  and  romantic, 
with  the  big  Roman  wall,  and  old  what's-his-name's  pyra- 
mid, and  daisies  and  violets  and  things  running  all  over 
everything — and  that  epitaph  on  Keats'  stone  was  simply 
splendid — something  about  his  name  being  made  out  ol 
water,  wasn't  it?  I  don't  remember  it  exactly,  but  I  just 
loved  it.  It  was  so  sort  of  discouraged  and  blue  and 
mournful.  We  girls  talked  about  it  that  night  and  we  all 
cried  like  everything  over  the  poor  fellow — only  Blanche 
said  she  did  wish  his  father  hadn't  been  a  butcher.  You 
know  Blanche  is  awfully  cranky  about  families,  because 
her  mother  was  a  Lee  of  Virginia  and  her  aunt  married  a 
Randolph.  It  was  awfully  sad  anyway,  even  if  his  father 
was  a  butcher,  and  that  epitaph  was  lovely.  I  do  wish  I 
could  think  of  something  as  good  as  that  for  myself. 
You'll  try,  won't  you,  Miss  Carewe?  Good-night." 

"  Good-night,"  replied  Belinda  in  smothered  tones,  as 
she  closed  her  bedroom  door.  There  are  times  when  the 
Youngest  Teacher's  sense  of  humour  and  her  dignity  meet 
in  mortal  combat,  and  she  felt  that  one  of  the  times  was 
close  at  hand. 

She  had  rather  fancied  that  talk  of  hers  about  Keats, 
and  had  been  flattered  by  the  sympathetic  interest  dis- 
played by  even  the  most  shallow  members  of  the  class. 
She  sighed  in  the  midst  of  her  laughter — if  only  one 
could  make  even  the  Amelias  understand  world  beauty 


1 68  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

and  world  pathos ! — but  the  laughter  triumphed.  "  Sheets 
and  Kelly  "  could  not  be  viewed  seriously. 

Nothing  more  was  heard  of  the  Funeral  Association, 
Limited,  until  a  week  later,  when  Belinda,  noticing  a  light 
in  the  third-floor  classroom,  investigated  and  found 
Amelia  and  Laura  May  bending  over  one  sheet  of  fools- 
cap. 

"  More  wills  ?  "  asked  the  teacher. 

Amelia  lifted  a  flushed  and  tear-stained  face. 

"  I'm  cutting  Blanche  White  out  of  my  will.  I've  been 
deceived  in  her,  Miss  Carewe.  She  isn't  a  true  friend,  is 
she,  Laura  May  ?  " 

Laura  May  shook  her  head  emphatically. 

"  Perhaps  you  are  mistaken,"  Belinda  suggested,  in  the 
interests  of  peace. 

"  I  heard  her !  "  Amelia's  tone  was  tragic. 

"  She  told  Lizzie  Folsom  that  I  was  a  conceited  thing 
and  always  wanted  to  run  everything  and  that  I  thought 
every  boy  that  looked  at  me  was  in  love  with  me,  and  that 
she'd  heard  lots  of  boys  make  fun  of  me.  I  was  in  the 
next  room  and  couldn't  help  hearing,  so  I  walked  right 
straight  out  in  front  of  them  and  told  Blanche  what  I 
thought  of  her. 

"  'You're  a  false,  double-dealing  hypocrite,'  I  said, '  and 
I'd  scorn  to  have  you  for  a  friend,'  and  then  I  walked 
out  of  the  room,  and  I  could  hardly  wait  till  after  study 


A    CONTINUOUS   PERFORMANCE        i69 

hour  to  come  up  here  and  change  my  will.  Just  to  think 
that  if  anything  had  happened  to  me  last  week,  that  horrid 
thing  would  have  had  my  chatelaine  and  my  La  Valliere ! 
Sometimes  I  don't  believe  anybody's  true — except  Laura 
May.  I  told  everything  to  Blanche,  and  I  suppose  she's 
betrayed  every  single  thing  to  that  freckled  Lizzie  Folsom. 
It's  just  because  Lizzie  has  so  much  money  for  matinees 
and  Huylers." 

"  That  doesn't  sound  well,  Amelia."  Belinda's  tone 
was  reproving.  "  Lizzie  is  a  very  attractive  girl,  and 
though  Blanche  wasn't  very  loyal,  she  may  have  said 
some  things  that  were  true.  I'd  advise  you  to  think  her 
criticisms  over  and  see  if  any  of  them  fit.  As  for  her  re- 
peating what  you've  told  her,  when  one  doesn't  want 
things  known,  one  would  better  keep  them  to  herself.  You 
talk  too  much." 

"  I  could  tell  Laura  May  anything." 

Laura  May  looked  modest. 

"  And  I'm  going  to  leave  my  chatelaine  and  La  Valliere 
to  Laura  May." 

The  Only  True  One's  face  brightened. 

"  Besides  the  pearl  ring  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes." 

Laura  May  beamed  self -righteously.  Apparently  true 
friendship  was  practically  remunerative  as  well  as  theoret- 
ically fine. 


170  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

The  next  night  Amelia  spent  with  a  day  pupil  who 
was  to  have  a  birthday  party ;  and  the  following  evening 
she  was  in  the  Primary  room  as  soon  as  she  could  escape 
from  study  hour.  There  Belinda  found  her  alone,  and  the 
girl  looked  slightly  confused  as  she  met  the  teacher's 
questioning  glance. 

"  Another  quarrel  ?  " 

Amelia  blushed. 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  was  just  changing  the  carriages  a  little.  I 
had  a  heavenly  time  last  night,  Miss  Carewe." 

"  Pretty  party,  was  it?" 

"  Perfectly  lovely.  Do  you  know  many  Columbia  men, 
Miss  Carewe  ?  " 

"  A  few." 

"  Don't  you  think  they're  splendid  ?  " 

"  Well,  some  of  them  are  pleasant  enough." 

"  I  simply  adore  Columbia  men.  Their  colors  are 
lovely,  aren't  they  ?  " 

"  Rather  wishy-washy." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Carewe,  I  don't  see  how  you  can  think  that. 
I  think  light  blue  and  white  are  perfectly  sweet  together — 
not  a  bit  crude  and  loud  like  orange  and  black  or  red  and 
black  or  that  ugly  bright  blue." 

Belinda  wakened  to  suspicion. 

"  Why,  Amelia,  I  thought  George  Pettingill  was  a 
Yale  man." 


A    CONTINUOUS  PERFORMANCE        171 

Amelia  examined  carefully  a  picture  on  the  other  side 
of  the  room. 

"  Well,  he  is,  but  only  a  Freshman,  and  I  don't  think 
bright  blue's  a  nice  color.  The  Yale  men  are  sort  of  like 
the  color  too.  Don't  you  think  they're  a  little  bit  loud  and 
conceited,  Miss  Carewe  ?  " 

This  was  rank  heresy.    Belinda  smiled  and  waited. 

"  There  was  a  Columbia  man  at  Daisy's  party — a  Soph- 
omore. He's  the  most  elegant  dancer.  His  name's  Law- 
rence— Charlie  Lawrence.  He  says  my  step  just  suits  his. 
We  had  five  two-steps  and  three  waltzes." 

For  a  few  moments  Amelia  lapsed  into  reminiscent 
silence,  but  silence  is  not  her  metier. 

"  He  has  three  brothers,  but  no  sister  at  all,  and  he  says 
a  fellow  needs  a  girl's  influence  to  keep  him  straight. 
There's  such  a  lot  of  wickedness  in  college  life,  and  by 
the  time  you're  a  Sophomore,  you  know  the  world  mighty 
well." 

There  was  the  glibness  of  quotation  about  the  recital, 
and  Belinda  indulged  in  a  little  smiling  reminiscence  on 
her  own  account.  She,  too,  in  earlier  days,  had  been  in 
Arcady — with  desperately  wicked  and  blase  Sophomores 
who  needed  a  nice  girl's  gentle  influence.  Verily,  the  old 
methods  wear  well. 

"  He's  coming  to  see  me  next  reception  night,  if  I  can 
get  permission  from  Mamma  before  then,"  said  Amelia. 


1 72  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  Miss  Carewe !  "  called  a  voice  in  the  hall.  Belinda 
turned  to  go. 

"  But  what  was  wrong  with  the  carriages  ?  "  she  asked. 

Amelia  bent  her  fair  head  over  the  will  until  her  face 
was  hidden,  but  the  tips  of  her  ears  reddened. 

"  Oh,  I  was  just  thinking  that  it  didn't  seem  very  re- 
spectful to  Mamma  and  Papa  to  put  George  in  the  first 
carriage  with  them  when  they  haven't  known  anything 
about  him,  so  I  thought  I'd  move  him  back  a  little  way." 

"  Oh !  "  commented  Belinda,  with  comprehension  in  her 
voice. 

A  quarrel  between  Amelia  and  Laura  May,  the  Only 
True  One,  necessitated  much  remodelling  of  the  unstable 
will  during  the  next  week,  but  the  trouble  was  finally 
smoothed  over  and  the  pearl  ring  clause  reinstated,  though 
the  chatelaine  and  La  Valliere  were  lost  to  Laura  May 
forever. 

Friday  evening  was  reception  evening,  and  on  Satur- 
day morning  Amelia  flew  to  the  Primary  room  immedi- 
ately after  breakfast. 

She  lifted  a  beaming  face  when  Belinda  looked  in  upon 
her. 

"  Do  you  believe  in  love  at  first  sight,  Miss  Carewe  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  No." 

"  Oh,  don't  you  ?    Why,  I  know  it's  possible." 


A    CONTINUOUS   PERFORMANCE        173 

Belinda  didn't  argue  the  question. 

"  I'm  writing  out  a  whole  new  will.  The  other  was 
all  mussy  and  scratched  up  from  being  changed  so  often. 
Doesn't  that  look  neat  ?  " 

She  held  up  a  sheet  of  paper  which  bore,  in  systematic 
grouping,  a  plan  for  filling  the  funeral  carriages.  Belinda 
glanced  at  it. 

"  Why,  where's  George  Pettingill  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a 
twinkle  in  her  eye. 

Amelia  tossed  her  head. 

"  If  he  goes  to  my  funeral  he  can  take  the  trolley,"  she 
said  with  profound  indifference.  "  You  see  I've  only  put 
three  people  down  for  the  first  carriage.  I  thought  I'd 
just  leave  one  place  vacant,  in  case " 

"  Exactly,"  said  Belinda. 

Before  the  successor  to  the  Columbia  Sophomore  ap- 
peared upon  the  horizon  to  complicate  the  carriage  prob- 
lem anew,  the  funeral  fad  had  run  its  course  and  the  wills 
of  Amelia  and  her  satellites  had  gone  the  way  of  all  waste 
paper. 


ADELINA  AND  THE  DRAMA 


CHAPTER   X 

ADELINA   AND   THE  DRAMA 

THE  Youngest  Teacher  looked  across  the  room  at 
the  new  girl  and  tried  to  goad  her  conscience  into 
action.  New  girls  were  her  specialty.  She  was 
an  expert  in  homesickness,  a  professional  drier  of  tears 
and  promoter  of  cheerfulness.  When  she  really  brought 
her  batteries  into  action  the  most  forlorn  of  new  pupils 
wiped  her  eyes  and  decided  that  boarding-school  life 
might  have  its  sunny  side. 

Gradually  the  Misses  Ryder  and  Belinda's  fellow- 
teachers  had  recognised  the  masterly  effectiveness  of  her 
system  and  her  personality,  and  had  shifted  the  responsi- 
bility of  "  settling  "  the  new  girls  to  the  Youngest  Teach- 
er's shoulders.  As  a  rule,  Belinda  cheerfully  bowed  her 
very  fine  shoulders  to  the  burden.  She  knew  that  as  an 
accomplished  diplomat  she  was  of  surpassing  value,  and 
that  her  heart-to-heart  relations  with  the  pupils  were  of 
more  service  than  her  guidance  in  the  paths  of  English. 

She  comforted  the  homesick,  set  the  shy  at  ease,  drew 
confidences  from  the  reserved,  restrained  the  extrava- 
gances of  the  gushing. 


i78  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

But  on  this  January  evening  she  felt  a  colossal  indiffer- 
ence concerning  the  welfare  of  girls  in  general  and  of  new 
girls  in  particular — a  strong  disinclination  to  assume  any 
responsibility  in  regard  to  the  girl  who  sat  alone  upon  the 
highly  ornamental  Louis  Quinze  sofa. 

The  newcomer  was  good  looking,  in  an  overgrown, 
florid,  spectacular  fashion.  Belinda  took  note  of  her  thick 
yellow  hair,  her  big  blue  eyes,  her  statuesque  proportions. 
She  noted,  too,  that  the  yellow  hair  was  dressed  pictur- 
esquely but  untidily,  that  the  big  eyes  rolled  from  side  to 
side  self-consciously,  that  the  statuesque  figure  was  in- 
cased in  a  too  tightly  laced  corset. 

Miss  Adelina  Wilson  did  not  look  promising,  but  her 
family  was — so  Miss  Ryder  had  been  credibly  informed — 
an  ornament  to  Cayuga  County,  and  Mr.  Wilson,  pere, 
who  had  called  to  make  arrangements  for  his  daughter's 
schooling,  had  seemed  a  gentlemanly,  mild,  slightly  har- 
assed man,  of  a  type  essentially  American — a  shrewd, 
successful  business  man,  embarrassed  by  the  responsibility 
of  a  family  he  could  support  but  could  not  understand. 

"  She's  my  only  daughter,  and  her  mother  is  gone,"  he 
explained  to  Miss  Ryder,  leaving  her  to  vague  speculation 
concerning  the  manner  of  Mrs.  Wilson's  departure. 

"  The  boys  are  all  right.  I  can  fix  them,  but  Addie's 
different,  and  I  guess  she  needs  a  good  school  and  some 
sensible  women  to  look  after  her.  She's  a  good  girl,  but 
she  has  some  silly  notions." 


rADELINA   'AND   THE  DRAMA  179 

Looking  at  Addie,  Belinda  accepted  the  theory  of  the 
silly  notions,  but  wondered  just  what  those  notions  might 
be.  She  would  have  to  find  out,  sooner  or  later,  and  it 
might  as  well  be  sooner;  so  she  rose,  set  her  diplomatic 
lance  at  rest,  and  charged  the  young  woman. 

"  I'm  afraid  you'll  feel  a  trifle  lonely  at  first,"  she  said 
with  her  most  friendly  smile. 

The  new  girl  made  room  for  the  Youngest  Teacher 
upon  the  sofa  beside  her,  and  executed  a  smile  of  her  own 
— a  mechanical,  studied,  carefully  radiant  smile  that  left 
Belinda  gasping. 

"  Oh,  no ;  I'm  never  lonely.  I'm  used  to  being  apart," 
said  Adelina  in  resigned  and  impressive  tones. 

Belinda  met  the  shock  with  admirable  calm. 

"  Yes,  you  have  no  sisters,"  she  said ;  "  brothers  are 
nice,  but  they're  different." 

Adelina  sighed. 

"  It  isn't  my  being  an  only  daughter  that  makes  the 
difference,"  she  explained.  "  It's  my  genius,  my  ambition. 
Nobody  understands  and  can  really  sympathise  with  me, 
so  I've  worked  on  alone." 

The  "  alone  "  was  tolled  sadly  and  accompanied  by  a 
slow,  sweet,  die-away  smile  that  worked  automatically. 

Belinda's  brain  fumbled  for  a  clew  to  the  girl's  words 
and  affectation,  and  she  looked  closely  for  any  earmarks 
of  genius  that  might  clear  up  the  situation. 


i8o  CONCERNING  BELINDA 

Suddenly  Adelina  clasped  her  hands  around  her  crossed 
knees,  struck  a  photographic  pose,  and  languishingly 
turned  her  great  eyes  full  upon  Belinda. 

"  Do  you  think  I  look  like  Langtry  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Lots 
of  people  have  noticed  the  resemblance.  Of  course,  I 
don't  know,  but  I  can't  help  believing  what  people  tell 
me.  There's  a  young  gentleman  who  crossed  on  the  same 
steamer  with  Langtry,  and  he  says  I'm  the  very  image  of 
her — only  more  spiritual." 

The  Youngest  Teacher  had  found  her  clew.  She  was 
sitting  beside  an  embryonic  tragedy  queen,  a  histrionic 
genius  in  the  rough. 

"  Well,  you're  near  Langtry's  size,"  she  admitted,  "  and 
the  shape  of  your  face  is  something  like  hers." 

Adelina  relaxed  her  pose. 

"  Yes,  I  guess  it's  so.  At  first  I  wasn't  very  well  suited, 
I'd  hoped  I'd  be  more  like  Bernhardt.  I  just  adore  the 
thin,  mysterious,  snaky  kind,  don't  you?  I  think  those 
serpentine,  willowy,  tigerish,  squirmy  actresses  are  per- 
fectly splendid.  They're  so  fascinating,  and  they  can  wear 
such  lovely,  queer  clothes.  I  wouldn't  have  minded  being 
like  Mrs.  Pat  Campbell,  either.  There's  something  aw- 
fully taking  about  that  hollow-chested,  loppy  sort  of 
woman.  But  you  just  can't  choose  what  you'll  look  like. 
I  got  long  enough  for  anything,  but  then  I  just  began  to 
spread  out  and  get  fat,  and  there  wasn't  any  stopping  it,  so 


AD  ELI  N  A   'AND   THE  DRAMA  181 

I  had  to  give  up  any  idea  of  being  the  willowy  kind.  I 
was  awfully  disappointed  for  a  while,  and  I  hardly  ate 
anything  for  months,  trying  to  stay  thin,  but  it  didn't  make 
a  bit  of  difference.  I  kept  right  on  getting  fat  just  the 
same.  After  all,  it  isn't  shape  that  counts  so  much  if 
you've  got  genius.  Mary  Anderson's  pictures  look  aw- 
fully healthy,  and  I  know  lots  of  folks  think  Langtry's 
finer  than  Bernhardt.  Which  do  you  like  best  ?  " 

Belinda  diplomatically  evaded  the  question.  "  You  hope 
to  go  on  the  stage  ?  "  she  asked. 

Adelina  lapsed  into  tragedy.  "  I'd  die  if  I  couldn't.  I 
was  just  born  for  the  stage.  Papa  and  the  boys  don't 
seem  to  understand.  They  think  I'm  silly,  stage-struck, 
like  girls  who  go  on  in  the  chorus  and  are  Amazons  and 
things.  I  can't  make  them  see  that  I'm  going  to  be  a  star, 
and  that  being  a  great  actress  is  an  entirely  different  thing 
from  being  an  Amazon.  Folks  up  home  are  all  so  dread- 
fully narrow.  A  genius  hardly  ever  gets  sympathy  in  her 
own  home,  though.  I've  read  lots  of  lives  that  showed 
that — but  you  can't  keep  real  genius  down." 

The  retiring  bell  rang. 

Belinda  rose  with  alacrity. 

In  her  own  room,  with  the  door  closed  behind  her,  she 
gave  way  to  unseemly  mirth.  Then  she  sallied  forth  to 
tell  Miss  Barnes  of  the  young  Rachel  within  their  gates ; 
but  there  was  a  troubled  look  from  between  her  twinkling 
eyes. 


i8a  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

"  She's  silly  enough  to  do  something  foolish,"  she 
thought.  "  I  hope  she's  too  silly  to  do  it." 

The  stage-struck  Adelina's  hopes  and  ambitions  were 
known  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  school 
within  twenty-four  hours.  Some  of  the  girls  thought  her 
ridiculous.  Some  of  the  romantic  set  sympathised  with 
her  aims.  All  found  her  a  source  of  considerable  enter- 
tainment and  treated  her  with  good-natured  tolerance. 

Miss  Ryder  and  the  teachers  shook  their  heads  disap- 
provingly, but  had  no  real  cause  for  complaint. 

The  Stage-struck  One  didn't  shine  in  her  classes,  but 
the  same  criticism  might  have  been  made  concerning  a 
large  assortment  of  girls  who  made  no  pretensions  to 
dramatic  talent. 

Adelina  obeyed  the  rules,  attended  recitations,  was  re- 
spectful to  her  teachers  and  amiable  toward  her  school- 
mates. If  she  spent  her  recreation  hours  in  memorising 
poetry  and  drama,  or  spouting  scenes  from  her  favourite 
plays,  the  proceedings  could  hardly  be  labelled  misdemean- 
ors. To  be  sure,  she  broke  considerable  bedroom  crockery 
in  the  course  of  strenuous  scenes,  and  in  one  of  her  famous 
death  falls  she  dislodged  plaster  on  the  ceiling  of  the  room 
below,  but  she  cheerfully  provided  new  crockery  and  paid 
for  ceiling  repairs,  so  Miss  Ryder's  censure,  though  earn- 
est and  emphatic,  was  not  over-severe. 

Belinda's  English  literature  class  became  popular  to  an 


AD  ELI N  A   AND    THE   DRAMA  183 

unusual  degree,  and  its  sessions  were  diverting  rather 
than  academic.  In  this  class  only  did  Adelina  take  a 
fervid  interest.  The  midwinter  semester  was  being  de- 
voted to  consideration  of  Elizabethan  drama,  and  in  the 
Shakespearian  readings,  recitations  and  discussions  which 
were  a  feature  of  the  study  the  Cayuga  County  genius 
played  a  star  role.  The  other  girls  might  search  out  and 
memorise  the  shortest  possible  quotations — Adelina  ab- 
sorbed whole  scenes,  entire  acts,  and  ranted  through  them 
with  fine  frenzy,  until  stopped  in  full  career  by  the  teach- 
er's stern  command.  With  folded  arms  and  frowning 
brow  she  rendered  Hamlet's  soliloquy.  She  gave  a  version 
of  Ophelia  that  proved  beyond  question  that  luckless 
heroine's  fitness  for  a  padded  cell.  She  frisked  through 
Rosalind's  coquetries  like  a  gamesome  calf,  and  kept  Lady 
Macbeth's  vigils  with  groans  and  sighs  and  shuddering 
horrors. 

Only  by  constantly  snuffing  her  out  could  the  Youngest 
Teacher  maintain  anything  like  order  in  the  class ;  and,  as 
it  was,  the  enjoyment  of  Adelina's  classmates  often  verged 
upon  hysteria.  As  for  the  Gifted  One's  own  honest  pride 
and  satisfaction  in  her  prowess,  words  cannot  do  justice 
to  it,  and  it  would  have  been  pathetic  had  it  not  been  so 
amusing. 

But  it  was  in  her  own  room  that  Adelina  was  at  her 
best.  There  she  rendered  with  wild  intensity  scenes  from 


1 84  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

a  score  of  plays,  and  there  the  girls  resorted  during  their 
leisure  hours,  in  full  certainty  of  prodigal  entertainment. 

In  one  of  the  trunks  brought  from  home  Langtry's 
counterpart  had  a  choice  assortment  of  costumes,  con- 
structed chiefly  from  cheesecloth  and  cotton  flannel,  but 
reenforced  by  tinsel  paper,  beads,  swan's-down  and  other 
essentials  for  regal  roles.  There  were  artificial  flowers, 
too,  among  the  supplies,  and  a  make-up  box — jealously 
guarded  from  the  notice  of  a  faculty  prone  to  narrow 
prejudices — was  used  by  the  tragedienne  with  wonderful 
and  fearful  results. 

Adelina  did  not — intentionally — lean  toward  comedy. 
Tragedy  was  her  sphere.  She  loved  to  shiver,  and  shud- 
der, and  groan,  and  shriek,  and  swoon,  and  die  violent 
deaths;  and  although  she  admitted,  as  all  true  artists 
must,  the  claims  of  Shakespeare,  she,  in  her  secret  soul, 
considered  Sardou  the  immortal  William's  superior. 

An  indiscriminate  course  of  theatre-going  during  visits 
to  New  York  with  an  indulgent  and  unobservant  father 
had  introduced  her  to  a  class  of  modern  dramas  that  are, 
to  put  it  mildly,  not  meant  for  babes — though  the  parents 
of  New  York  babes  seem  blandly  indifferent  to  the  unfit- 
ness — and  the  chances  are  that  had  the  teachers  been 
thoroughly  posted  as  to  her  repertoire  it  would  have  been 
suddenly  and  forcibly  abridged ;  but  she  reserved  Shake- 
spearian roles  for  the  edification  of  the  faculty. 


ADELINA   'AND    THE  DRAMA  185 

Miss  Emmeline  passing  through  the  hall  one  day  was 
much  perturbed  by  hearing  from  behind  a  closed  door 
emphatic  iteration  of  "  Out,  damned  spot,"  and  even  Miss 
Lucilla's  firm  assurance  that  the  lines  were  Shakespeare's 
could  not  wholly  reconcile  the  younger  principal  to  such 
language. 

Heavy  sobbing,  maniacal  laughter,  and  cries  of  "  My 
child,  my  child !  "  or  "  Spare  him !  I  will  tell  all,"  ceased 
to  attract  the  slightest  attention  upon  the  third  floor. 

Beyond  restricting  performances  to  recreation  hours, 
insisting  that  they  should  not  interfere  with  regular  study, 
and  supervising  strictly  the  choice  of  real  plays  which 
Adelina  and  her  fellow-pupils  were  allowed  to  attend,  the 
powers  that  be  did  not  take  the  dramatic  mania  seriously 
nor  attempt  to  suppress  it.  So  many  fads  come  and  go 
during  a  boarding-school  year,  perishing  usually  of  their 
own  momentum. 

"  The  girls  will  soon  tire  of  it,"  said  Miss  Ryder,  very 
sensibly,  "  and  Adelina  will  be  through  with  the  nonsense 
the  more  quickly  for  being  allowed  to  work  it  off." 

Incidentally  she  wrote  to  Mr.  Wilson,  pere,  asking  for 
his  opinion.  He  replied  in  a  typewritten,  businesslike  note 
that  he,  too,  believed  the  stage  fever  would  soon  run  its 
course ;  and  there,  so  far  as  official  action  was  concerned, 
the  matter  dropped. 

Gradually  the  girls  ceased  to  find  sport  in  the  dramatic 


186  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

exhibitions  and  fell  away,  but  Adelina  pursued  her  course 
valiantly  and  unflaggingly. 

Occasionally  Belinda  labored  with  her  honestly,  trying 
to  insert  into  her  brain  some  rational  and  practical  ideas 
concerning  stage  life,  dramatic  art  and  vaulting  ambition ; 
but  her  efforts  were  of  no  avail,  and  she,  too,  fell  into  an 
attitude  of  tolerant  amusement,  quite  free  from  alarm. 

It  was  during  the  last  week  of  March  that  the  unex- 
pected happened.  One  Tuesday  morning  Adelina  failed 
to  appear  at  chapel.  The  teacher  sent  to  investigate  re- 
ported her  room  in  order  but  without  occupant.  A  maid 
was  sent  to  look  through  the  house  for  the  recreant,  but 
came  back  without  her. 

Then  Belinda,  with  a  flash  of  intuition,  ran  up  to  the 
vacant  room. 

The  bed  had  not  been  slept  in.  The  trunks  were  there, 
but  the  girl's  dress-suit  case,  coat,  hat,  furs  and  best  street 
frock  were  missing. 

Pinned  to  the  pincushion  Belinda  found  a  note,  written 
in  Adelina's  spidery  hand.  It  ran : 

"  I  am  going  away  to  carve  out  a  career  for  myself.  It  will  be  use- 
less to  try  to  find  me.  I  have  some  money,  and,  if  necessary,  I  will 
pawn  my  jewels ;  but  I  will  soon  be  making  plenty  of  money,  and  as 
soon  as  I  am  famous  I  will  come  back  to  see  you  all. 

"  Tell  my  father  not  to  worry.  I  will  be  all  right  and  he  won't  miss 
me,  and  I  can't  let  him  keep  me  from  my  Art  any  longer.  If  he  is 
willing  to  let  me  study  for  the  stage  he  can  advertise  in  the  papers." 


AD  ELI  N A   AND    THE   DRAMA  187 

Even  in  the  midst  of  her  annoyance  and  her  apprehen- 
sion the  Youngest  Teacher  could  not  smother  a  chuckle 
over  the  melodramatic  tone  of  the  letter,  the  reference  to 
the  jewels — consisting  of  three  rings,  a  breastpin  and  a 
watch — the  serene  egotism  and  confidence  in  imminent 
fame  and  fortune. 

But  there  was  a  serious  side  to  the  complication.  There 
was  no  telling  into  what  hands  the  stage-struck  girl  had 
fallen,  nor  where  she  might  have  been  persuaded  to  take 
refuge.  It  would  probably  be  an  easy  matter  to  find  her 
with  the  aid  of  detectives,  even  if  she  had  confided  her 
plans  to  no  one  in  the  school;  but  meanwhile  she  might 
have  an  unpleasant  experience. 

So  Belinda's  face  was  grave  as  she  ran  down  to  Miss 
Ryder's  study  with  the  letter,  and  it  was  still  grave  as  she 
went  out,  a  little  later,  to  send  a  telegram  to  Mr.  Wilson, 
and  visit  the  office  of  a  well-known  detective  agency.  In 
the  interval  everyone  in  the  house  had  been  questioned 
and  professed  complete  ignorance. 

The  detective  was  smilingly  optimistic — even  scornful. 
The  thing  was  too  easy!  But  when  Mr.  Wilson,  torn 
'twixt  distress  and  vexation,  arrived  that  evening  the 
self-confident  sleuth  had  made  no  progress.  Adelina  had 
apparently  vanished  off  the  face  of  the  earth.  The  very 
simplicity  of  her  disappearance  was  baffling. 

That  she  would,  sooner  or  later,  apply  to  some  thea£ri- 


1 88  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

cal  manager  or  agency,  or  interview  some  teacher  of 
dramatic  art,  was  a  foregone  conclusion,  and  on  the  sec- 
ond day  after  her  departure  it  was  found  that  she  had 
tried  to  obtain  interviews  with  several  managers,  and  had 
had  a  talk  with  one,  who  good-naturedly  told  what  had 
taken  place  at  the  interview. 

"  Handsome  young  idiot,"  he  said  to  the  detective. 
"  That's  why  they  let  her  in ;  but  she  hasn't  a  gleam  of 
intelligence  concealed  about  her,  and  it  would  take  her 
a  lifetime  to  get  rid  of  her  crazy  ideas  and  mannerisms, 
even  if  there  were  any  hope  of  her  amounting  to  any- 
thing after  she  did  get  rid  of  them.  Her  idea  of  stage  life 
is  a  regular  pipe  dream,  and  she'd  never  be  willing  to  be- 
gin at  the  bottom.  She  wouldn't  stand  the  hard  work 
twenty-four  hours.  She  had  sort  of  an  idea  that  she  was 
a  howling  beauty  with  a  genius  that  didn't  need  any  train- 
ing, and  that  if  she  could  only  get  to  see  me  I'd  throw  a 
fit  over  her  and  start  her  out  on  the  road  at  five  hundred 
dollars  a  week  to  star  in  '  Camille,'  or  something  of  that 
kind.  She  made  me  tired.  I've  seen  thousands  of  the 
same  kind,  but  I  talked  to  her  like  a  Dutch  uncle ;  told 
her  she  wasn't  so  much  as  a  beauty,  and  that  she  had  a 
voice  like  a  hurdy-gurdy,  and  that  all  her  ideas  about 
acting  were  crazy.  Kind  of  rough,  of  course,  but  whole- 
some, that  sort  of  straight  talk  is.  I  told  her  genius  in 
the  stage  line  was  twins  with  slaving  night  and  day; 


189 

that  they  looked  so  much  alike  you  couldn't  tell  them 
apart,  and  that  the  kind  of  genius  she  was  ranting  about 
was  all  hot  air.  I  said  if  she  could  take  some  lessons  and 
learn  to  sing  and  dance  a  little  she  might  go  on  in  the 
chorus,  but  that  I'd  advise  charwork  ahead  of  that,  and 
that  I  didn't  see  the  faintest  illusive  twinkle  of  a  star 
about  her.  She  cried  and  looked  sick,  but  she  seemed 
to  be  discouraged  and  open  to  conviction.  So  then  I  told 
her  the  best  thing  she  could  do  was  to  go  home  to  her 
folks  and  marry  some  decent  fellow  and  look  at  the  stage 
across  the  footlights — not  too  much  of  that,  either.  Yet 
the  Gerry  Society  doesn't  think  much  of  us  managers, 
and  nobody'd  suspect  me  of  heading  rescue  brigades. 
I've  got  a  daughter  of  my  own,  and  she  isn't  on  the  stage 
— not  by  a  blamed  sight." 

All  this  was  interesting,  but  the  clew  began  and  ended 
at  the  manager's  office  door,  and  no  further  trace  of  Ade- 
lina  was  found  during  the  day. 

About  nine  o'clock  that  evening  Maria,  the  parlour  maid 
at  the  school,  knocked  at  Belinda's  door  in  a  fine  state  of 
excitement. 

"  If  you  please,  Miss  Carewe,  Miss  Wilson's  come 
back.  I  let  her  in  and  she's  gone  up  to  her  room,  and 
Miss  Ryder  ain't  here,  and  she  looks  fit  to  drop,  and  her 
face  is  that  swollen  from  crying,  and " 

Belinda  cut  the  monologue  short  and  hurried  down  to 
the  front  room  on  the  third  floor. 


IQO  CONCERNING   BELINDA 

It  was  dark,  but  by  the  gleam  from  the  street  lamps 
the  teacher  made  out  a  bulky  form  on  the  bed,  and  the 
sound  of  stifled  sobbing  came  to  her  ears. 

She  went  over  and  knelt  by  the  bed. 

"  I'm  glad  you've  come  back,  dear,"  she  said  in  a  cheer- 
ful, matter-of-fact  voice.  "  Your  father  will  be  so  re- 
lieved, and  it  isn't  quite  right  for  a  girl  to  be  alone  in  a 
big  city,  you  know." 

The  figure  on  the  bed  gave  a  convulsive  flop  and  the 
sobbing  redoubled. 

"  Don't  cry  any  more.  It  will  make  you  ill.  Nothing 
very  bad  has  happened,  has  it  ?  " 

Belinda  was  still  prosaically  cheerful. 

"  Oh,  it  was  horrid,"  wailed  the  youthful  tragedienne 
with  more  spontaneous  feeling  than  she  had  ever  put  into 
Ophelia's  ravings  or  Juliet's  anguish.  "  They  wouldn't 
take  me  in  at  boarding-houses,  and  when  I  did  find  a  place 
it  was  so  smelly,  and  they  had  corned  beef  for  dinner,  and 
I  loathe  corned  beef,  and  the  people  were  so  queer,  and 
the  sheets  weren't  clean,  and  the  bed  had  lumps;  and  I 
thought  when  Mr.  Frohman  saw  me  and  heard  me  give 
the  sleep-walking  scene  he'd  be  glad  to  educate  me  for 
the  stage  like  they  do  in  books,  but  he  wouldn't  even  see 
me.  Hardly  anybody  would  see  me,  and  when  one  man- 
ager did  he  told  me  I  hadn't  any  talent,  and  that  I  wasn't 
even  fit  for  an  Amazon  unless  I  could  learn  to  dance,  and 


AD  ELI N A   AND    THE   DRAMA  191 

that  I'd  better  do  charwork,  and  he  said  such  dreadful 
things  about  the  stage  and  the  work;  and  then  I  went 
back  to  the  boarding-house,  and  it  smelled  worse  than 
ever,  and  one  of  the  men  spoke  to  me  in  the  hall,  and — 
Oh,  dear.  Oh,  d-e-a-r!" 

She  ran  out  of  breath  for  anything  save  wailing,  and 
Belinda  patted  her  on  the  back  encouragingly  without 
speaking. 

"  And  then  I  felt  so  sick,  and  I  was  afraid  to  stay  alone 
all  night,  and  I  just  left  my  bag  and  slipped  out — and  I 
really  do  feel  dreadfully  sick,  Miss  Carewe.  I  guess  it's 
a  judgment.  It'd  be  a  good  thing  if  I'd  die.  I'm  not 
any  good  and  I  can't  be  a  star,  and  papa  and  the  boys'll 
never  forgive  me." 

"  Nonsense,"  laughed  Belinda.  "  It  wasn't  nice  of  you, 
but  fathers  are  not  so  unforgiving  as  all  that,  and  if  you'll 
just  give  up  raving  about  the  stage " 

"  I  never  want  to  hear  of  acting  again." 

"Well,  I  don't  think  your  father  will  be  very  angry 
if  he  hears  that." 

"But  suppose  I  4ie?" 

Belinda  lighted  th'e  gas.  In  the  light  the  girl's  cheeks 
showed  scarlet,  and  when  the  Youngest  Teacher  felt 
Adelina's  hands  and  face  she  found  them  burning  with 
fever. 

"  Small  danger  of  your  dying  within  fifty  years,  child, 


192  CONCERNING  BELINDA 

but  you  are  tired  and  nervous.  I'll  have  the  doctor  come 
in  and  see  you." 

She  put  the  returned  wanderer  to  bed  and  telephoned 
for  the  doctor,  but  while  she  waited  for  him  there  was  a 
ring  at  the  bell  and  she  heard  Mr.  Wilson's  voice  in  the 
hall. 

He  was  standing  in  the  doorway,  uncertainly  twirling 
his  hat  in  nervous  hands,  and  looking  even  more  harassed 
than  usual,  when  Belinda  went  down  to  him. 

"  I  don't  suppose "  he  began. 

"  She's  here,"  interrupted  Belinda. 

The  father's  face  flushed  swiftly. 

"  And  she's  all  right,  only  I'm  afraid  she's  going  to  be 
ill  from  the  excitement.  She's  very  much  ashamed  and 
very  much  disillusioned,  Mr.  Wilson.  I  think  she's  had 
her  lesson,  and  I  don't  think  I'd  scold  much  if " 

There  was  an  odd  moisture  on  the  glasses  which  Mr. 
Wilson  removed  from  his  nose  and  wiped  with  scrupulous 
care;  and  he  cleared  his  voice  several  times  before  he 
spoke. 

"  I  won't  scold,  Miss  Carewe.  I  guess  I'm  a  good  deal 
to  blame.  She  didn't  have  any  mother,  and  I  was  pretty 
busy,  and  nobody  paid  much  attention  to  what  she  was 
doing  and  reading  and  thinking.  I  just  gave  her  money 
and  thought  I'd  done  all  that  was  necessary;  but  I  ex- 
pect the  carpet  business  could  have  got  along  without  me 


ADELINA   AND   THE  DRAMA  193 

occasionally,  and  I  could  have  known  my  girl  a  little  bet- 
ter." 

They  climbed  the  stairs  together,  but  Belinda  left  him 
at  his  daughter's  door. 

When  she  went  up,  later,  with  the  doctor  Mr.  Wilson 
looked  more  at  ease  in  the  world  than  usual,  and  Ade- 
lina's  face  was  cheerful,  though  grotesquely  swollen  from 
much  crying. 

"  Papa  and  I  are  going  to  Europe  for  the  summer, 
Miss  Carewe,"  she  called  out  excitedly.  Then,  as  she  saw 
the  doctor,  her  dramatic  habit  reasserted  itself,  and  she 
fell  into  one  of  her  most  cherished  death-scene  poses, 
looking  as  limp  and  forlorn  as  circumstances  and  a  lack 
of  rehearsal  would  permit. 

With  melancholy  languor  she  held  out  her  hand  to 
the  doctor.  He  took  it,  felt  her  pulse,  looked  her  over 
quickly  and  keenly. 

"  Measles,"  he  said  crisply.  "  You'd  better  look  out 
for  the  other  girls,  Miss  Carewe." 

Adelina  sank  back  in  her  pillows  with  a  sigh  of  pro- 
found despair. 

"  I  might  have  known  I  wouldn't  have  anything  ro- 
mantic," she  said  with  gloomy  resignation. 


A     000114103 


